Morphing Fiction into Reality
by Carolinacullen2012
Summary: Bella Swan is lonely and looking for an outlet. When she is out of commission she finds the answer to all her prayers, in the way of fan fiction. Follow Bella on her journey to become a writer, and see who she bumps into along the way.
1. Writing with Errors-Revised

**_Disclaimer:_****_ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._**

**_Special Note:_****_ For those of you who have read the first chapter … please go back and reread it to be current. I recently revised the story. I added and deleted somethings that will be important to understand the story. You might wonder why this happened when the last chapter you read was like this. I apologize for this inconvenience, but I had a change in the direction I wanted to take the story._**

_I would like to thank my wonderful betas for reading this chapter. Both of them have been a great inspiration, to me. They have held my hand and encouraged me, even when I wanted to give up. Thanks for princess07890, cullennbella, dannibags, and piesmom._

_In this chapter, we find out how Bella got her start at writing and some of the trials she had to go through to get to where she is. She finds her greatest inspiration along the way. If I were to write the story similar to my life, this would be the version I would have like to taken. Bella follows in my shoes and this is what I experienced while entering the fandom. With the exception that I haven't met Edward yet; though, I'm still holding out … Enjoy… _

**Chapter 1**

**"Writing with Errors"**

**Bella's POV**

I sat in front of my laptop, aimlessly staring at the screen in front of me with Facebook open. Once my crops were planted and all the latest updates were read from everyone I was friends with, I would retire to my couch. I sighed as I closed the laptop. I walked to the kitchen and poured another cup of coffee, then parked my butt on the couch to watch another episode of CSI. My life couldn't get any duller at the moment.

That was my life, day in and day out, for the past couple of years. I had no friends or family. Some could argue that I was alone in the world, but I had my cats, and that was all that mattered to me. I had three cats, and they kept me sane with their unwavering love. Goatee, whom I named because of the little goatee he sported under his chin, was my tuxedo cat and extremely loveable. He was toilet trained, and I still can't figure out how he learned how to do that. I sure as hell did waste my time to train him. He even talked to me on occasions, which brightened my day. Anna was my long-haired princess. She was young, and I found her lying in my driveway and had to take her in. Out of the three, she was the one who loved to lie in my lap for hours. Tinker was multicolored and stayed to herself, but she did come out when feeding time came along.

I went to work every day at Newton Outfitters, where I have worked since high school. I had to constantly fight off the owner's son; he was always making passes at me. I made the mistake a couple of years ago and finally gave in. I went on a date with Mike. One thing led to another, and we ended up sleeping together. I was lonely and horny, and since he was close and interested, I allowed it to happen. Huge mistake; now I couldn't shake him. Men weren't exactly knocking down my door, and there he was, ready and willing. I was hoping the date or sex would be bad, or my behavior after the fact was such that he would lose interest in me, I had no such luck.

The few boys that were around here, I wasn't interested in. The ones I was interested in were gone before I even worked up the courage to ask them out. I had taken a couple of college classes, but quit when my father became ill. I stayed here in Forks to take care of him, and when he passed, well, I never left. The day of my father's funeral, I stopped at the gas station to get gas and buy a lottery ticket. Who knew that paying tribute to my father would pay off? I mean, he bought lottery tickets from here all the time; it was something that he liked to do. Since he was no longer with me, I thought, what the hell, and bought one in his honor. He was sometimes able to win back a couple of bucks here and there when he bought one, but when I did it in his memory that day, I won millions. After the dust cleared and everything was said and done, I was set for life. I never saw the need go back to Phoenix with my mother; my house, Dad's house, the home I grew up in, I couldn't bear to get rid of it. Also, the car I got; both were paid off, and all I had to worry about were the other monetary things in life. I didn't have to work, but kept my job at Newton's to pass the time.

My life changed when I fell at Newton Outfitters one day. I was laid up in bed for weeks on end, trying to recover from the surgery I had to have. Walking was something I always had trouble with and apparently when I fell over the stupid parking block in front of the store, well, I did more harm than good. The doctor told me that years of constantly falling had weakened the ligaments in my ankle, and they needed to repair the damage. Since I was alone, the doctor wanted me to hire a nurse to help me out. I did; she cleaned and did a couple of things around the house, and I spent the majority of the time in bed.

I needed something to occupy my time, so I finally picked up the books I had been dying to read. I had seen 'Sunrise' the movie, and it was okay, but never thought anything of it. When I learned 'Curve' was coming out, which was the sequel, I bought the books to read, but never did read them. The movie was okay, but it didn't really do anything for me. Then they made another movie, 'Darkening', and I was hooked. I didn't have anything else to do, and I had the books at the house. 'Darkening' had really drawn me in.

I started reading the first one, and I could feel the love pouring off the pages. I couldn't get enough and quickly picked up the sequel, and cried during the first four chapters. When I finally managed to get to where the movies had ended, I couldn't wait for it to be released to see what was going to happen to them. So, being that I couldn't move and the newest movie wasn't out yet, I read the last book. 'Enduring Sunrise' still left me wanting more. I couldn't get enough. I felt like an addict.

I started perusing the author's website looking for updates about the books or movies. I was shocked to learn that the author had written 'Witching Hour,' from a different characters point of view. That story would never see the light of the day because someone had to go and mess things up for the rest of us. After reading everything she had and reading all the outtakes that never made it into the books, I still wasn't satisfied and needed more.

One day while searching her page, I found a site for Sunrise fans. Fantasyjunkie was a website devoted to the characters of 'Sunrise'. I was shocked to see that people were writing stories about my favorite couple and their families. I thought my prayers were answered. I clicked on a story featuring my favorite pair and got lost once again in their love. But after reading it, I felt let down when the my lovers didn't sail into the sunset. I decided that if all the stories on that website ended like that story, I never wanted to read from there again. I headed back over to the author's website, looking for something else, something that would bring me joy, something to heal the loneliness I felt inside, and something to idle the time I had to spend in bed.

Scrolling her list of fan sites, I finally stumbled on , another website devoted to the 'Sunrise Series'. They also allowed people to write stories. I was giddy with anticipation as I scrolled through the stories and read each author's own little blurb talking about their stories. They even had contests, and stories with lemons; I couldn't for the life of me figure out what lemons were. So I had to learn the lingo for the site. After a couple of interesting reads, I had finally found my home, and my reason for living.

I was blowing through stories like a crack addict with an endless supply. I would finish them in record time. I would search for more and save them to my browser bar to read later. I was reading so many stories that, after a while, I forgot which ones I loved and which ones I had already read. I would start a story, only to realize that I had read that one before; I put a stop to that when I learned how to favorite them. So, I would favor them and move on.

Eventually, I started dreaming and thinking about my own stories I could write. I held myself back; I knew I wasn't good enough. I had only been an average student in school, and English was my worst subject. I would think and dream, though, and the stories would bounce around in my mind, constantly plaguing me to write them.

Once I was back on my feet, and back to work, Mrs. Newton insisted that she set me up with someone. The first suggestion was her son, but when I adamantly declined, she started picking others. I went on a couple of dates, but I couldn't pull myself away from my stories. When those were failures, she found others who were willing to go out with me. Where she found these men was beyond me. None of them held my interest and were nowhere near as exciting as the world that was created within my stories.

I had a couple of guys who hung in there, and we successfully went out several times. However, once they came over to my house and watched as I successfully ignored them to read an update from my favorite author, they too lost interest in me. When I would get excited about a new story I was reading, I would tell Mrs. Newton about it. She looked at me like I was crazy, or something. Hell, even Mike lost interest in me after hearing about all the stories.

Some would argue that I was obsessed, but I didn't think I was. I had just found my source of happiness, and my creative muse. I couldn't help but think about the stories I wanted to write, and when I slipped and told Mike about wanting to write, he laughed in my face and told me that I could never make it as a writer. He pissed me off; I mean, what did he know about the world? He was twenty-eight years old and still lived with his mother.

I finally broke down and wrote the story that plagued my mind. It followed the author's original story line where she had left off. I needed more and I wondered how many other people out there were like me. I wondered if anyone would even like my stories. I finally got brave and looked at the posting recommendation on Sunblocked, trying to decide if I seriously wanted to go public with my stories. I read the recommendations and analyzed every small detail, and the description of the rules.

Once the first chapter was typed and printed, I read it regularly, searching for ways to improve the story. I worked my hardest to make sure that it flowed, had no grammar errors, and was what I wanted to present to Sunblocked. I finally worked up the courage to submit the story. I held my breath and closed my eyes tight as I hit the send button. What was the worst that could happen?

They could tell me that it wasn't good enough, and that it needed work. I figured that, but I never heard a single word from them about my submission. I checked my email daily, even hourly, just to see if they would post my story, but nothing. Not even 'thanks', or, 'the story was good, but you need help with grammar,' nothing. I stopped writing and put aside the dream of having one of my stories featured on their website. Despite all of this, the plot just kept drumming away in my mind.

~MFIR~

Two years passed, and I never tried to write again. The stories on Sunblocked were drying up, and I couldn't find anything that appealed to me anymore. I had stumbled onto a couple of stories. The ones with a BDSM theme rocked my world, both physically and mentally. I craved those stories. Once I finished reading everything Sunblocked had on it and realized that my time on Sunblocked was up, I finally stumbled back over to Fantasyjunkie, thinking that maybe I had misjudged them two years prior, and decided to give them a whirl. I was able to successfully locate some of the story genre I wanted, but was still left a little unsatisfied. The best thing that came out of Fantasyjunkie was I did have new stories to read, and that was all that mattered to me.

Right around my birthday, the writing bug hit again, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I needed to at least write the one piece that had been plaguing my mind for years. There were others, but the one that picked up where the books left off just wouldn't leave me alone. I had to finish it. I read the guidelines for Fantasyjunkie again. I read the rules almost daily. I tried to think about what to do. Did I want to post my stories for others to read? Or, did I not? Before the night was over, I bit the bullet. I rewrote the entire first chapter in record time and posted. Once I hit send, I then crossed my fingers and hoped for the best.

The first story I wrote after picking up where the author had left off was a little story I had thought about while singing karaoke. I had always been an old soul at heart, and often found myself listening to the older hits of the seventies. The song "Main Street" would play on repeat in my brain. So, I wrote about the two lead characters from Sunrise, playing out the song. Edison Callum would stand outside the pool hall just to watch Annabelle Swain get off work at the Gentlemen's club to walk by him. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Young and sweet and filled his dreams every night.

The reviews from the story were a blessing. Whether the people who reviewed realized it or not, they built me up and made me feel fulfilled. The more they reviewed, the more I wanted to write. It was like a drug to me.

I had finally done something fairly decent in my life; that was until I had my first negative review. Why did people have to be so hurtful and nasty about things? I took the words to heart, and I knew somewhere inside, she was right to a degree. My grammar sucked, my spelling was mediocre at best, and I had no clue where to put the commas or punctuation. She did offer to help me, if she had time, but I didn't know where to turn. I had thought that finding a beta or pre-reader would be difficult, and that they would require monetary payment for services rendered. I searched through the list of betas on Fantasyjunkie, but not everyone I messaged returned my request for services.

I didn't know what to do; should I just keep writing and hope for the best? Or, should I just pull the story off the website? That reviewer had hit a soft spot that almost made me quit. I finally toughened up and decided that it was only one in a sea of great reviews. I wasn't going to let one person ruin the dreams I had of writing; I'm sure everyone had bad reviews sometime in their career. You can't please everyone all the time. Why was there always one person who was determined to knock you down? Especially if things were going well, and people liked the story; why did one person try to destroy that? I thought of it like this … if you color your hair, talk to ten people and ask their opinions. One out of those ten would be against it. That one would stick out, and would make you reconsider.

I never left a negative review on a story. If I didn't like a story, I walked away; closed the computer and went on to the next. No one was the wiser. I could have potentially written some terrible reviews, too. Not every story out there was something I liked. I always thought; what if they were like me? What if they were nervous? Worried? Or, didn't have the self-confidence? I wouldn't be the one to ruin their dreams and, if this made them happy, who was I to take it away from them? Everyone has to start somewhere, and we are only human after all. Humans make mistakes. Besides, I might not like it, but other people might love it.

I put on my big girl panties, and posted more chapters until I could locate a beta. When a beta finally responded, I was so excited to have someone to talk to about the things I liked about my stories and about the fandom. The woman I met was Rosalie Hale, aka callumnswain; she lived in London, while I was destined to never leave Forks, Washington. We struggled sometimes to connect because of the time difference separating us. She was a godsend and an inspiration. She slowly worked on weeding out my problems while I wrote and posted more chapters.

I never gave up reading and still read stories regularly, but still couldn't really find the ones that tickled my fancy.

I would chat with Rosalie regularly through emails. She was a stylist in London, and often times, we would have to work around her schedule. I was thankful to have someone reading and correcting my mistakes though; so I couldn't complain. She was also there to inspire and encourage me through my journey in writing. I even bounced new ideas off her. When new plot bunnies would plague my brain, she was the first to know. She was the one who encouraged and supported me through the negative reviews I often received. I promised her that, if I ever made something of myself, she would be the first one to whom I sent a check.

I used every opportunity to write. Even while sitting in the doctor's office, I jotted down thoughts about different stories. I had outlines and plans for every story I had. When things weren't busy at work, I wrote down ideas and would rewrite and plan them out. There wasn't a moment that I didn't have a pen in my hand, scratching down something to turn into a story. At night, as I crawled into bed, I would think about plot ideas. I placed a clipboard by the bed. When the ideas would come, I would lean over to write them down before I forgot them. Sometimes they pertained to stories I was writing at the moment, and sometimes they were epiphanies that would eventually get written and then put on the web for everyone to read.

I advertised my stories everywhere possible. I posted on Fantasyjunkie, and even found a new website that catered to the same things as the other two. The and I posted my stories there, too. The stories had only been on the website for a couple of days when another beta found me. Alice Brandon, aka princessalice; she was a teacher and only lived a couple of miles from me, which was a great advantage; we usually had the same schedules.

She helped to polish the work I had done and encouraged me as well. When Rosalie was unavailable, I could always turn to Alice. Often times, she would send me inspirational cards just to help me get through the hard times. There weren't too many, but you always had someone who didn't like the things you wrote. That was something I had to come to terms with.

Standing in line at the grocery store, I saw some much need inspiration by way of an advertisement for Peninsula College. I had taken a couple of classes before Charlie got sick, so I decided to go back. I had nothing but time on my hands, and I wanted to better myself.

So, the following day, I headed to the college and enrolled in their spring semester class, Introduction to Creative Writing course. When I go to the college, I took the test again. Even though I had taken it years ago when I was eighteen, I didn't see how I would potentially lose the knowledge I had back then.

Once the tests were over, I waited for the advisor to come along and help me sign up for the class I wanted to take.

"Ms. Swan," she said coming out of her office.

I stood up and followed her.

"My name is Mrs. Cope, and I will be your academic advisor. It is my understanding you wanted to sign up for classes?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am. I would like to sign up for the creative writing class," I said proudly.

"That's great, but you're going to have to take a couple of classes before you get to that point. Not to mention the fact that you need to pick a major, and creative writing wouldn't be listed in some of those majors, but could be picked up as an elective."

"Why can't I just take Creative Writing?"

"Well, you have to have a couple required courses first. Remedial English would be one, plus Remedial Reading would also be required in your case."

"How long before I would be able to take the classes?"

"Depends on you really. When do you want to begin, and when you plan on taking the prerequisites?"

"Do I have to pick a major right now?" I asked feeling like my world had come crumbling down on me.

"No, you can go general. You can even graduate with a general major and be accepted to any college. You will have all the prerequisites out of the way for your career choice."

"Can I come back when I've decided on what to do?" I asked.

I wanted to take the creative writing course and that was all. I really had no use for a college education. I had money and didn't need to work; so what would be the point of getting a career?

I left Mrs. Cope's office with a decision to make. Did I want to take the other classes? I headed to work, saddened by not being able to do the things I wanted.

**_A/N: This is the story of my life so far, or at least my writing life. There will be more, and there will be some surprises. I hope. Thanks for reading and please show some love we all need it. Edward will be coming soon, I promise, lemons too. Hang in there!_**


	2. Writing Professor and the Dominant

_**Disclaimer:**__** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

_**Thanks to my wonderful girls for looking this chapter over and finding my mistakes. Dannibags and piesmom are my hard working angels on this chapter.**_

_**One more small note – if you read chapter one prior to May 2013, it has been revised and added too. It might be in your best interested to head back and look over the chapter so you don't get lost later. I apologize for this inconvenience, but I had a change of direction on this story and needed to add a couple of things before I could continue with the next chapter.**_

_**Warning: If you are interested in getting involved in the BDSM lifestyle, please take care and do your research. Find a mentor in your area, find out about munches in your area, and always be safe, sane, and consensual. **_

_**This story will be a slow updater being I am writing two other stories at the moment. Be sure to click the follow button to ensure that you're notified when it does. The schedule is at the end of the month at the moment. Thanks for understanding.**_

_We soon find out about Edward. What he is doing and who he is, and see where our two lovers will come into contact with one another. _

**Chapter 2**

"**Creative Writing Professor and the Dominant Within"**

**EPOV**

I pulled into the only diner located in the little town of Forks. I got out of the car, slowly stretching. It had been years since I had been here, and it did not appear that anything had changed about the place. The same diner, same camping store, and the same rundown buildings that lined the small town. I couldn't even believe I was here. If someone had told me ten years ago that at the age of forty I would be leaving my comfortable position at the University of Illinois to move here, I would have laughed in their faces. Hell, I was shocked I would have ever left Chicago.

I never understood why Jasper would pick this place to live, but he did. The weather was always depressing, but what did I have to compare it to? Chicago, the windy city; Chicago was brighter and busier, but it wasn't the quiet that I longed for. I needed to start over and find myself again.

Jasper was like a brother to me. We grew up in the same neighborhood, and he was always there to help me through the hardest times of my life. Jasper was five years older than I was and would always make sure that I was taken care of. When he left for college, it about killed me, but he was still there to make sure I was okay.

When my parents died in a fire while I was away at college, Jasper was there to help guide me through the roughest moments in my life. When I joined the BDSM community, Jasper was also there to guide me though the water and helped me to understand why I was the way I was.

Jasper helped me to understand what a Daddy Dom was and taught me how to be the best that I could be.

A Daddy Dom was a dominant whom enjoyed the aspects of having a submissive that liked to be treated like his baby girl. Daddy Dom's loved and cherished their baby girls. It wasn't always sexual, and it wasn't about pain. In fact, I never wanted any of my girls to feel pain. I loved my baby girls. Being this way had nothing to do with age, and I didn't fantasize about being with children. All my baby girls were consenting adults; most of them have retained their childlike enthusiasm and excitement over just about everything. They are also, on occasion, naive and gullible when it comes to the outside world. Usually they are those people who want to believe the good in every one. I nurture, provide and protect them. I want them to be everything they want to be I help them reach their full potential. As my baby girls, they are an extension of who I am; an outward reflection of my dominance and what the power I hold can do. When I told people this, the first thing that they thought was that I was a closet pedophile, which is not the case. The other misconception was replacing a women's father, which was totally and utterly wrong. I didn't want to replace their fathers. I could never replace that role anyway.

The aspects I did enjoy were making my submissive feel carefree again. I would cherish them and keep them safe. I wanted to be the center of their universe, provide for their every need. I wanted to shape and mold them into the women they needed or could be. I cherished every one of the women who served as my baby girl over the years, but once they had reached their full potential, it seemed that they didn't need me anymore and I let them go out into the world. This was the reason why I currently found myself without a baby girl to love and cherish. My lifestyle wasn't always about sex or punishments. In fact, the majority of baby girls I was with didn't like pain at all, which was a blessing because I couldn't bring myself to hurt them the way some others wanted.

I sat at the table in the diner, pondering the reasons I now found myself in Forks. After my parents deaths, I stayed in Chicago, finished my education, and had a job at The University of Illinois. Things were going great, or so I thought.

The last baby girl that I had was Tanya … she was the best I had ever had, and when she left … it about crushed me. I thought she was the one. The one I would spend forever with, and I couldn't understand why she left. I treated her like the princess she was, and encouraged her to rise above herself and become more. Apparently, my encouragement and faith in her for better was the driving force behind the woman I turned her into. She was offered a better job in another city, and I couldn't move. I couldn't leave Chicago, and she couldn't stay.

It broke my heart into a million pieces. After confiding in Jasper, he came to see me and told me I wasn't living my life anymore. I thought I was, but I did have issues. I wouldn't leave the house unless it was to attend something in regards to my career or my lifestyle.

It was seeing that I needed to start over that I found myself applying for a position in the English Department at Peninsula College. It was a small community college located about an hour away from Forks in Port Angeles. I was tired of dealing with the students on the University level, and wanted students that were more mature in their age and study habits.

I got the job, packed up my house, and headed out to start a new adventure. I even decided I would give up my Daddy Dom lifestyle; if I could only find someone who would stay with me when I decided to go vanilla.

"You won't last a month," Jasper said.

I was in the middle of ordering my dinner at the diner.

"Yes, I will. I don't need that side of me anymore. All I have to do is treat women like shit, and they will fall at my feet."

"Yeah, let's see how long that works out for ya. FYI, they were falling at your feet in Chicago; you just had your mind set on a certain type," he said.

"And what type was that?" I asked frustrated.

"The barbie doll type. You know the ones that love to shop and have you spend gobs of money on them."

"I can't help that the women I wanted took care of themselves. Plus, I wanted to take care of them," I said getting pissed.

Tanya fell into that category; she was statuesque, blonde, and loved to spend money. I think the thing she liked the most was the fact that I treated her like a princess. I did everything possible to keep her happy, and I didn't want the money she had; I had my own. But, that wasn't good enough because when the chips fell, she scooted off with a new job and a man that would treat her like shit because she had money.

When I sat back and analyzed all the women who had been Daddy's baby girls, it seems that they all were in Tanya same shoes. However, what type of women should I be looking for? Should I look for someone who didn't have anything? Or, someone who didn't have any confidence within themselves?

I didn't know where to begin, but I would know when I found the right one, hopefully.

We finished eating and headed toward the house I bought. The college was a small one and couldn't afford to house all of their professors, but they did provide me a list of house available in the area. It didn't take long to find the home I wanted.

It was set back along Highway 101; the driveway was extremely long leading to the house. Jasper had been my eyes when it came to its exact location, but being set off the highway and out in the middle of the woods to me was a blessing. I didn't want to live too close to town, and I wanted the privacy the woods could offer. I was never the live in the suburbs type anyway. When I pulled up to the house, it was everything I had ever wanted. All I needed was someone special to fill the house with, but that would have to wait until I was settled. And, with school starting soon for me, I needed to get settled as quickly as possible. Jasper had done a great job of getting all my things in the house and had been a blessing when it came to making sure everything was here for me.

~MFIR~

It didn't take long for me to get everything around my house situated in their correct spots, and after hearing Jasper talk for hours about the prime fishing in the area, I hesitantly agreed to go. The bad thing was I didn't own a fishing pole, and Jasper said I had to bring my own shit.

I trudged out of the house and hopped into my new victory red 2012 Camero; this car was gorgeous. After Tanya left, I decided I was doing away with the Volvo and going with something new. I had always been rather conservative and went with safety verses speed or style, but now I had a fresh start, a new home, and a new attitude on life.

I pulled up in front of the Sporting Goods store and walked in. There was a young woman at the counter scribbling away on a clipboard. I don't think she even heard me come in through the doors even though the bell rang. I stood back watching her. She was lost in thought and didn't even notice when I walked up to the counter.

I cleared my throat, alerting her to my presence.

She looked up with the biggest brown eyes I had ever seen.

"Can I help you?" she asked looking at me with wide eyes.

"I'm looking for a fishing pole. I was wondering if maybe you could suggest one."

"Sure, my dad loved to fish," she said coming around the counter.

She pointed out different fishing poles, told me what each one could do, and even showed me how to use them. I was in total awe of her. I figured she wouldn't know anything about them, and I would have to pick one myself. She led me over to the tackle boxes and suggested different lures and baits for me to use. She questioned me about the type of fish I was looking to catch. When I told her I didn't know, she suggested a couple of things.

I walked with her back to the counter where I placed everything she had suggested on the counter. She rang up my purchases. I looked over at her clipboard to see what she was writing about. She caught me looking and moved the clipboard under the counter, and told me the price.

"Are you a writer?" I asked pulling my Amex card out of my wallet.

"No. Yes. I don't know," she said.

"What do you mean you don't know?" I asked completely confused.

She huffed and pushed her hair behind her ear.

"I am a writer in a way, but I'm not published or anything," she said biting her bottom lip.

"What kind of stories do you write?"

"Fiction mostly," she said handing me the receipt to sign. I quickly signed, but the English professor in me wanted to know what she wrote about.

"Fiction, well that's a good place to start. How do you find inspiration?" I asked curiously.

She giggled, "Everywhere really … songs, movies, TV shows, things I've read and things I see."

"I would love to read what you've written," I said, and she turned as red as a tomato.

"Uhm, I don't think you would be interested in reading what I write," she stammered.

"Why not? It's fiction right? It's not real life and I am an English Professor over at Peninsula College," I said shrugging my shoulders. If she only knew, I had seen it all.

"Well … it's, shit. It's not shit literally; look, I like to write fan fiction. Are you familiar with that?" she asked.

"Yeah, I've heard about it. Those are stories based off movies, books, cartoons … whatever someone likes … right?"

"Yeah, something like that anyway … the stories I write well, they reference the books and or the movies in The Sunrise Series," she said biting her lower lip again. I found it rather cute the way she was worrying.

"Those stories about Edison and Annabelle, wasn't that a vampire thing?" I asked. It seemed all the girls were a little crazy over that series.

"Yep, I love to write stories about that couple."

"Still doesn't bother me. I've read the books and watched the movies, they're okay." I shrugged; it didn't bother me. Most men wouldn't have admitted to it if they had read it, but I knew there were a couple of men in the theater when I took Tanya to see all five movies. They were probably dragged there by their girlfriends, just to get on their good side hoping for something in return.

"You are a rare breed Mr. …" she stopped mid sentence looking down at the receipt. "… Cullen."

"That I am Miss …" I stopped posing the same question to her.

"Swan … Bella Swan," she said holding her hand out for me to shake.

I reach out and pulled her hand to my lips; the shock that I received from touching her wasn't too bad, but the jolt my lips received as I placed a kiss on her hand was orgasmic. I could feel my cock swelling already, and I hadn't done anything other than talk to her and touch her hand.

I looked deep into her chocolate eyes and saw straight to her soul. It was at that moment that I saw the generosity, innocence, and desire; however, I don't think it was the same as my desire to own her or love her. Hers was the desire to feel accepted, wanted, and loved. I could see the sadness that clouded her eyes evaporate by the second as I gazed at her.

I slowly let go of her hand.

"You kind of look like Edison," she said still staring into my eyes.

"I've heard that before … it's the copper hair," I said.

She wasn't the first one to tell me this, about every girl at the University of Chicago has told me. I usually just laughed it off.

"Yeah, the copper hair," she sighed.

"You kind of look like Annabelle," I said.

She did too with her long mahogany hair and her big brown eyes.

She giggled, "I don't think I look anything like her. She's so beautiful."

She lowered her head and pushed the hair that had fallen down in her face behind her ears. I reached over and lifted her chin, making her look into my eyes again.

"You've got everything she has and more," I said.

She blushed scarlet again, but didn't stop looking into my eyes. I could get lost in her eyes. The clearing of a throat broeake our gaze. I look to see who is interrupting our dazzling moment. There is a blonde haired gentleman standing at the end of the counter.

"Isabella, don't you have work that needs to be done?" he asked.

"Hum, yeah sorry Mike," she said getting all my items into bags and finally handing me my receipt.

"Good luck fishing, Mr. Cullen," she said handing me my bags.

"I'll need all the luck I can get," I replied winking at her.

I stepped away from the counter and sized up the gentleman at the end. He wasn't anything I couldn't handle, but I wondered if he was with Bella.

I walked out of Newton Outfitters with more questions than answers. I had to make a choice to stay away from Newton Outfitters because there was something about Bella that called to the dominant side in me. Or, give up trying to go vanilla and go there every chance I got.

I was officially stuck between a rock and a hard place. I wanted to be with Bella and make things happen with her, but I didn't want to ruin everything with being a Daddy Dom. I mean, what if she didn't want that? Need that? Or, even like that? I wouldn't force her to be with me like that. I would rather walk away than force her.

~MFIR~

I was sitting out in a little boat with Jasper with my line in the water. Fishing hadn't been as relaxing or as fulfilling as Jasper had led me to believe.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked pulling his line out of the water.

"Nothing," I replied quickly.

"Bull shit!"

"Look, don't worry about it. I will figure it out eventually," I said.

I didn't want to tell him about the chance meeting with Bella. He already thought I was completely nuts for not wanting to be a dominant anymore.

"You've found the one, haven't you?" he asked raising his eyebrow at me.

"I don't know what I found."

"Pull your line in," he demanded.

"Why?" I asked.

"I said to pull in your damn line," he demanded again and this time it wasn't a question. I started reeling in my line, but apparently, Jasper wasn't going to let me have enough time to finish.

"Where?" he asked starting the motor and practically drowning out any sound I made.

He was on a mission.

Once we reached the bank, he didn't take long to drag the boat ashore and walk to his car.

"Where?" he asked again, but I didn't know if I wanted to tell him.

"Look Edward … there are only a couple of places you could have met this girl. Remember, this town isn't that big. I was with you at the diner; so you didn't meet her there. You went to work yesterday and then Newton's today. Now, I can go to the college first, but it will probably take us a while to locate the girl, and I doubt she will be there unless she is studying in the library or something on the weekend."

"It's wasn't at the college," I whispered.

"Good, that narrows down my search," he said stepping on the gas and getting us from way from the Dul Sol River.

It didn't take long for Jasper to pull up in front of Newton's. I prayed for her not to be there. I don't know why because I wanted to see her again, but I didn't want to hear the lecture I knew Jasper was planning.

God didn't answer my prayers, and she walked out carrying her clipboard.

"That's her, isn't it?" he asked.

I nodded.

He didn't say anything and watched her walk to her vehicle. When she pulled out of the parking lot, so did Jasper; following right behind her, but at a distance she hopefully wouldn't notice us.

"Don't follow her," I begged, but it fell on deaf ears.

"Look, I know you don't want me to know, and I know you don't want me to follow her. But, it seems like you pick from the bottom of the barrel in your choice of women, and I want to make sure she isn't like the others."

We followed her as she pulled into the grocery store down the block. When she went into the store, Jasper whipped the car into a spot two cars down from hers.

"Stay here," he instructed leaving the car.

I worried the whole time he was gone. What was he doing? Was he talking to her? The thought of him talking to her began to unnerve me. I reached for the door handle to open the passenger door. I was crawling out of the car when he walked up wearing a smile.

"Why are you smiling, fuck face?" I asked pissed.

"She's absolutely perfect for you, my dear friend," he said walking around the car.

"And what makes you think that, Obi Wan?" I asked.

"Oh, I talked to the lovely Bella Swan. It seems she is rather knowledgeable about the ponds around here. She even told me to stop by the sporting goods store, and she would hook me up with some good bait."

"How in the hell did fishing come up?" I asked puzzled; it wasn't like she was at work selling him a fishing rod or something.

"She was standing at the meat case, and wouldn't you know, the meat case and the fish case are right beside one another. I asked her if she knew a good recipe for fish, and she quickly told me a way to prepare it. She was very polite. I bet she can cook too. I asked her if it was the same preparation for fish I had caught on the Dul Sol River. She said it was that fresher fish from a good days catch was better than the supermarkets. I agreed. She starting talking about the best bait to use to catch catfish, and I listened," he shrugged.

I climbed into the car. Jasper climbed in, and when he didn't start the car immediately, I was scared to ask what else he had up his sleeve.

I caught a glimpse of brown hair. I turned to watch Bella hop into her old rusty looking Chevy. She backed out of the store and pulled out of the parking lot. Jasper was on her tail again. We must have followed her home.

Her house was modest, but nice. It was a two-story house in a decent looking neighborhood. It looked like she didn't have too many neighbors on the block. So, we sat for awhile without being noticed. It looked like her house attached to the woods, and I briefly wondered if I could get a closer look at her, but decided that might be a little too much. It was bad enough we were parked on the curb watching her house.

Jasper and I talked off and on about her, and made different speculations by the looks of the house, her truck, and the fact that cats apparently resided with her. I figured she lived alone, and with the presence of cats, I wondered how alone she truly was. Was that what had caused her to write in the first place?

When nightfall came, we pulled from the curb, satisfied that she was indeed alone, but I made myself a promise that I wouldn't bother her again. I didn't want what I was to corrupt her. It wasn't that I felt like there was something wrong with what I was. If she liked her life or the things she liked to do, I would try to change, but I was beginning to agree with Jasper. I didn't think it was possible to erase those tendency for anyone, no matter how great.

_**A/N: All right, this story changed from where I was originally taking it. After some research and long time thinking about what to do with it, I concluded that this was the best course. One way or another life is going to morph from fiction to a reality. This story will be a slow updater so please click the follow button before you go. I have three other stories running at the moment, and want everyone to get their update notices. As always be kind and show some love … we all need it.**_


	3. Creatively Thinking

**_Disclaimer:_****_ All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended._**

_We will see Bella's first meeting with Edward at Newton's, and we will learn how she felt about the situation. We see what really happened in the store with Jasper. She will talk more about her writing drama._

_The ladies who I run around in circles to correct my writing: Dannibags and piesmom. They have become my best friends in this whole adventure into fan fiction land. Thank you ladies for all the work you put into cleaning me up!_

**Chapter 3**

**"Creatively Thinking"**

**Bella's POV**

When I pulled up in front of Newton's, I wasn't any closer to deciding if I wanted to go to college or not. I figured I would take a couple of weeks to think about it.

I was really having a moment with my writing. I had found inspiration from the PA system playing in the store. I was busy scribbling down my thoughts on my clipboard. I heard the doorbell ring, but figured it was the usual customers from town. They knew what they were looking for so I didn't look up from my writing until I heard the clearing of a throat.

I looked up, and I stared into the greenest eyes I had ever seen. He was simply beautiful.

"Can I help you?" I asked. It was at that moment that I realized he looked exactly like Edison Callham.

"I'm looking for a fishing pole. I was wondering if maybe you could suggest one."

"Sure, my dad loved to fish," I said coming around the counter.

I led the gentleman over to the fishing rod display and pulled out several different fishing poles. I taught him how to reel each one and talked about the advantages and disadvantages to each pole we had. After he settled on a fishing rod, I led him over to the tackle boxes. Every good angler needed one, and it was pretty apparent that this gentleman knew nothing about fishing. I even considered suggesting some DVDs that would help him in his journeys. I asked him what kind of fish he wanted to catch because different bait is used on different types. When he told me where he would be fishing, I suggested a couple of different lures knowing what kind of fish lived in the waters.

I walked back over to the counter so I could ring up the items he would be purchasing. I had picked up one of the lures I had suggested when I saw his eyes fall onto my clipboard that I had left abandoned on the counter. I quickly reached over and put the clipboard under the counter. I didn't want him reading the things I wrote nor did I want him looking at me like I was crazy when he figured out who I was writing about. I told him the price and waited for him to pay.

"Are you a writer?" he asked pulling a card from his wallet.

"No. Yes. I don't know," I said.

"What do you mean you don't know?" he asked looking puzzled by my statement.

I huffed and pushed the stray hair that had fallen into my face behind my ear. I didn't want to explain my passion or obsession depending on who you asked to a total stranger. However, there was something about his eyes, which begged me to tell him all my secrets.

"I am a writer in a way, but I'm not published or anything," I said biting my bottom lip. I knew within a couple a questions he would find out my secret.

"What kind of stories do you write?"

"Fiction mostly," I said handing him the receipt to sign. I watched as he signed the receipt, noticing his beautiful handwriting in the process.

"Fiction, well that's a good place to start. How do you find inspiration?" he asked.

I giggled; I had found a moment of inspiration a few minutes ago from music. "Everywhere really … songs, movies, TV shows, things I've read and things I see."

"I would love to read what you've written," he said.

I could feel my face heating up, and I knew I had to be ten different shades of red at the moment. .

"Uhm, I don't think you would be interested in reading what I write," I stammered. I didn't want him to know all the things I put into my stories. It was bad enough that Mike thought I was crazy. He would think I was too. Either he would find it ridiculous or think I wrote porn.

"Why not? It's fiction right? It's not real life and I am an English Professor over at Peninsula College," he said shrugging his shoulders.

Oh shit, he would really be critical of the things I wrote. Hell, he could probably pick my story apart in a matter of minutes.

"Well … it's shit. It's not shit literally; look, I like to write fan fiction. Are you familiar with that?" I asked.

I didn't want him to see my work for fear he would think I was an illiterate fool and hurried to add fan fiction, hoping that would scare him away from questioning me.

"Yeah, I've heard about it. Those are stories based off movies, books, cartoons … whatever someone likes … right?"

Shit fan fiction didn't deter him. I guess I had to be honest and hope that would make him leave me alone about my writing.

"Yeah, something like that anyway…the stories I write well, they reference the books and or the movies in 'The Sunrise Series'," I said biting my lower lip again. I didn't want to hear him call me crazy, which was a possibility. I had heard it all before.

"Those stories about Edison and Annabelle, wasn't that a vampire thing?" he asked. I was shocked that he knew at first, and then I thought hell if he didn't know, I would think something was wrong with him. They were only the biggest phenomenon in the world. You would have to live under a rock to not know about them.

"Yep, I love to write stories about that couple."

Here we go, ready for the condescending remarks about the series.

"Still doesn't bother me. I've read the books and watched the movies, they're okay." he shrugged.

What the fuck? What man in his right mind admits to watching the series? I could see that if his wife or girlfriend had dragged him to see it. But, reading them? Come on now, he had to be lying.

"You are a rare breed Mr. …" I stopped mid sentence and looked down at the receipt "… Cullen."

"That I am Miss …" he stopped waiting for me to fill in his blank.

"Swan … Bella Swan," I said holding my hand out for him to shake.

He reached out and pulled my hand to his lips. The little shock I received when he touched my hand was nothing more than static shock or at least that's what I quickly thought. But, when his lips touched the back of my hand, the feeling was out of this world. It wasn't like anything I had ever experienced before. I think I even stopped breathing as he held his lips there.

I made the mistake of looking into his emerald green eyes and was lost in their depths. I could see everything reflecting in his eyes. I could see happily ever after and white picket fences. I know it's a cliché, but I wanted a family to love and look after. I wanted the whole thing; the knight in shining armor to come and save me. I wanted to be worshiped and loved unconditionally. I wanted to be treated like a princess. I think I might have read too many romance novels.

He slowly let go of my hand.

"You kind of look like Edison," I said still staring into his eyes. I couldn't help it. It was a Freudian slip.

"I've heard that before … it's the copper hair," he said.

"Yeah, the copper hair," I sighed.

I was utterly dazzled.

"You kind of look like Annabelle," he said.

His statement woke me right up then. There was no way I looked like Annabelle. She was too beautiful, and I was plain old me. I had been told that once or twice and the primary reason was the color of my eyes and hair. I wasn't anything more than that.

I giggled, "I don't think I look anything like her. She's so beautiful."

I lowered my head and pushed the hair that had fallen down in my face behind my ear. I wasn't beautiful, far from it.

He lifted my chin, making me look into his eyes.

"You've got everything she has and more," he said.

I couldn't help the blush I know I had from his words. How could someone so gorgeous and God like think I was something special? I stared at him for the longest time wondering if I was dreaming. The clearing of a throat broke our gaze. I looked to see who was interrupting our dazzling moment. Fucking Mike Newton! I knew he would ruin this moment with his appearance.

"Isabella, don't you have work that needs to be done?" Mike asked rather hateful if you asked me.

"Hum, yeah sorry Mike," I said getting everything together for Mr. Cullen.

"Good luck fishing, Mr. Cullen," I said handing him his bags.

"I'll need all the luck I can get," he replied winking at me.

I watched as he walked out of Newton's and out to a 2012 Chevy Camero. I knew he had money from his black Amex card, but it was obvious he liked to flaunt his money around. It was at that moment that everything he had said to me went right out the window. He was probably flirty and nice to all the women he met. He had to be your typical playboy type, and I didn't want anything to do with him.

~MFIR~

After Mr. Cullen left, I found another wave of inspiration and completed the next couple of chapters in my most recent story. My newest work in progress talked about the life of a submissive and the abuse that one could sustain while entering into the lifestyle.

I wasn't a submissive or a dominant, but those types of stories intrigued me. They called to something inside of me dying to get out. Or, that's what I thought because while reading those types of stories, it turned me on. I loved when Edison would have Annabelle tied up in his ropes or he would tease her, building her up to the point where she was euphoric. I yearned for more stories like that.

Searching the internet was sometimes tricky, and some of the information I found wasn't as accurate as it could have been. I talked with people in the lifestyle who would review my work, trying to get a better understanding for the characters I had created. They helped me understand the different aspects of the lifestyle and what was expected in the roles each person held. I thought briefly about going to a munch in the area to get a better understanding of what it was like to be in that lifestyle, but was scared to go. I couldn't figure out why though. It wasn't like the people in the lifestyle were any different from me, and I could talk to them freely. I guess the main reason for my fear was the unknown.

I finished my thoughts on paper and turned to see Mike standing at the counter.

"What can I do for you?" I asked.

"You are always writing on that damn clipboard. Didn't you even notice me standing here?" he asked pissed again.

"Sorry, but no," I said biting my lip. Here it comes, the speech about how I am wasting my time.

"You're pathetic! You're wasting your time on something that you're not even good at. You're never going to get published. You're pushing away men that are willing to be with you to write that stupid ass shit."

"It's not stupid," I whispered.

"Yes, it is. You don't pay attention to the customers when they're in here because you have your nose stuck in that clipboard. You're constantly day dreaming about some guy that is unattainable, and honestly it's unhealthy," he said with his cocky ass attitude.

"Just fire me then, Mike. I don't need the money or this bullshit. I love what I am doing with my time, and the alternative…is staring at these four walls while going nuts inside. I write because I want to, because I love to, and because it is the only way to get my feelings out. I write for others to tell me how I am doing and get the praise that I am missing in my real life. Maybe instead of being negative all the time about the things I do, you could be positive and make me feel happy about what I do."

"You're so full of shit, Bella. You never needed to write before you got hurt."

"True, I didn't. But, my life was lonely and unfulfilled then."

"You're obsessed," he said softening his tones.

"Maybe, but as long as I function like a human being, I eat and sleep, do everything I have to in this world, then my obsession isn't hurting anyone other than the people who chose to make my obsession about them."

"You're obsessions are not about me," he stammered.

"Yes, Mike they are. You constantly want to tell me how bad I am for writing or loving the movies or story, but what you are really saying is, your life is boring and you wish you had something or someone to heal the loneliness inside of yourself. You see, you put me down about it in order to make yourself feel better, but it's not going to work this time, Mike. Until they can prove that someone died from liking something a little too much, then I will continue. Hell, even if they told me I would die from my obsession, I might still do it."

"You're hurting yourself in the long run," he said.

"I don't think so. I'm learning to write better, expanding my mind, and talking with great people. I don't see any harm in the things that I do. And, until they cause you any great deal of pain, I don't care to hear you talk about it again." I huffed gathering my things.

My shift was over anyway, and I wasn't about to stand here and talk to him about my obsession when I could be at home getting my ideas into the computer. I walked out the door and into the parking lot. I hopped into my old truck and headed toward the Thriftway for groceries.

I thought about the things that Mike had said to me while at Newton's. It wasn't the first time Mike had tried to get me away from writing or anything else for that matter. Mike had successfully pushed me until I gave up singing karaoke in Port Angeles. I didn't ever know if it was about me or the fact that I went with his mother. Mrs. Newton loved to kick up her heels every once in awhile, and signing karaoke was her vice. That was right around the time I had slept with him too. Mrs. Newton and I had been at club 'Star Shine' in Port A and had a little too much to drink. When we called, Mike to come and pick us up. I was feeling rather turned on, and he was ready and willing. After that night, he forbid us to go ever again, which successfully snubbed my karaoke days.

"Excuse me," a male voice said beside me.

I looked over to see who was trying to get my attention.

"Would you happen to know how to cook fish?" he asked.

I looked at him, making sure I wasn't seeing things because apparently Forks population had grown from having no gorgeous men to having two, and ironically enough, I had met both of them in one day.

"Sure do, what do you want to know?" I asked smiling. I wasn't going to ignore him.

"Well, I've tried to cook fish but every time it doesn't taste as good as if I were to purchase it from a restaurant. I keep feeling like I am missing something. Do you have any suggestions on the best way to prepare it?" he asked smiling.

"I usually place the fish in aluminum foil and use a tablespoon of butter and some Old Bay seasonings, if I plan on baking it. How do you want to cook it? Deep fried?" I asked.

"Baked or Broiled; I try to watch my fat intake," he said winking at me. Yeah, it was pretty; apparently he was health conscious after that statement.

"Well, that should make it taste good."

"Would you prepare it the same way if they were freshly caught?" he asked.

"Sure, I would say the fresher the catch, the better," I replied back smiling.

"Do you know about any good fishing spots around here?" he asked.

It didn't take me long to tell him about Charlie's favorite fishing holes and a couple in Port A. I told him to come to Newton's and I would hook him up with the best bait to catch salmon. As I was walking away from him, he called out to me again.

"Thank you so much, Miss. …" he trailed off waiting for me to finish, I had never given him my name.

"Swan … Bella Swan," I replied.

"Thank you so much, Miss Bella Swan," he said waving as I walked down another isle.

Apparently, the Godlike men that were stalking Forks were all flirting with me. I felt giddy from all the attention. It wasn't like anyone every noticed me. I paid for my purchases and headed home to my cats. Back to the life of a wannabe writer, obsessed Sunrise lover, and full-time repressed sexual deviant.

~MFIR~

The weeks passed, and over the last couple of days, I had hit every site known to man to practice getting better at my writing. I even purchased this fancy program, which was supposed to fix my mistakes. I never knew if it really worked or not. I adjusted the writing with the advice they gave and sent it to either Alice or Rosalie to weed out the rest.

I headed back to 'Sunblocked' to read over their submission rules again. I really wanted to get my story on this site. They were very picky about the stories they accepted, and they were known to have the best stories. They were very tough to get on though. I needed to have less than ten mistakes in my writing in order to make it. So, with Alice reading and working on my stories, I got brave. I thought that maybe I had narrowed it down to ten or less mistakes. So, I took the plunge and submitted the first chapter of my BDSM story.

I waited patiently for any news from them to see if I was finally able to get in. I was excited, but scared when an email showed up in my inbox. I opened the email and slowly read:

_Dear WashingtonCallham,_

_Your recent submission to Sunblocked did not meet our requirements for submission due to the fact that it had numerous problems with the following issues:_

__X_ Punctuation (lots of problems with punctuation, including missing commas, apostrophes where there shouldn't be, etc)_

__X_ Tense (there are a few issues with past tense mixed in with the present tense in the rest of the chapter)_

__X_ Word choice/usage (such as: I ask Jack curious-should be curiously...or have a comma before. And like after, there should be a period and start a new sentence, but that is a punctuation problem.)_

_Please review our Rules._

_Please visit the Sunblocked Forum's "Writing Help" thread in the forum section called, "The Craft." There you will find very detailed and specific advice on the most common errors found in stories that get rejected, including problems with tense and punctuation._

_In addition, I would suggest that you try to find an experienced, qualified beta to work with to improve your writing skills. Several such people have offered their services on the Sunblocked Forum in the 'Writing Help' area, and 'Beta Help Source' is a good resource as well._

_Good Luck,_

_Sunblocked Staff _

Well, that sucked, and once again, my dream was shot down. I thought having Alice would help, but it didn't. I took a couple of days from writing and milled around the house. Bored out of my mind, but still thinking about the stories I had already posted. I knew that I had to continue. I had faithful followers, and people who hung onto every update.

I put my big girl pants on and finished writing the stories that inspired me. Whether they inspired or entertained anyone at that point was a blessing. I hammered away every chance I got. Sometimes, I wondered if I was burning Rosalie and Alice out with all my chapters I was throwing at them.

Right before Christmas, Rosalie had become very busy. Which hindered a lot of our communications, and I was getting more and more aggravated when I had writer's block and couldn't think of new things for my characters to do. I had all these stories running around in my head, but couldn't figure out what I wanted for scenes in the chapters.

I still hadn't decided on if I should go back to school. The way I felt about everything at the moment was overwhelming. I had looked up the help places that 'Sunblocked' had suggest, and they were looking over my story. I was pleased to have someone trying to help me out.

I paced the floor and wrote more. It took them forever to get back to me. When I finally got the email from them with my first chapter, I was completely blown away. All the red marks and the comments. I sent the document over to Alice hoping she might be able to explain all the rules they had thrown at me. I was completely overwhelmed and felt like crying.

I shifted through the mess and tried to take their comments and make them work. I decided to go ahead and send them chapter two of the story to get started on that one. I noticed an email from Alice.

_To: Bella Swan_

_From: Alice Brandon_

_Why are you sending your stories to them? They're picking apart your story and criticizing every little word._

I knew Alice was right, but I wanted to improve so badly. I wanted to be the best I could be, and learning would have to take place in order for me to get better. I emailed Alice back.

_To: Alice Brandon_

_From: Bella Swan_

_I know, but I want to get better. _

It wasn't a minute later before my email alerted me that I had a message back from Alice.

_To: Bella Swan_

_From: Alice Brandon_

_I know honey, but they will tear you down in the process. Be patient, the more you write the better you will get._

I wrote her back and let her know I had gotten the message.

Why wasn't I able to read my own work and find these errors? Wasn't I smart enough? How in the hell did I ever graduate from high school? So, many questions swirled around in my head.

**_A/N: All right, this story changed from where I was originally taking it. After some research and long time thinking about what to do with it, I concluded that this was the best course. One way or another life is going to morph from fiction to a reality. This story will be a slow updater so please click the follow button before you go. I have three other stories running at the moment, and want everyone to get their update notices. As always be kind and show some love … we all need it._**


	4. Resistance Is Futile

_**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

_**The ladies who I run around in circles as they correct my writings: Dannibags, piesmom, and princess07890. They have become my best friends in this whole adventure into fanfiction land. Thank you ladies for all the work you put into cleaning me up!**_

_**Edward is trying with all his power to stay away from Newton Outfitter's, but Jasper seems to have other plans for him.**_

Chapter 4

Resistance is Futile

EPOV

I tried with everything that was inside of me to stay away from Newton's and Bella, but Jasper wouldn't have it. Every damn time I turned around, he was sending me there to get some kind of bait or something equally ridiculous.

I was standing looking over all the different types of life jackets when Bella walked into the store. She didn't even notice me and I tried not to notice her. I hadn't really paid attention to her body the last time I was in here, but now that I really had a chance to look, I took the shameless opportunity to. She was rocking the fucking curves.

I watched as she rounded the corner and bent down to pick something up off the floor. Her ass was well displayed and greatly appreciated. I estimated her to be about a size fourteen. I had always fancied about a thicker woman, but never had one. Tanya and the rest of my baby girls had always been on the thinner side. I tried to help them gain weight by adding weight bars and different things to their diets, but it never seemed to work. I assumed their metabolism was too high and burned off all the access during one of our scenes.

Bella, on the other hand, had a nice round ass, a flat stomach, thick hips and thighs. I looked up as I analyzed every inch of her body, noting the ample chest she had too. She wasn't showing anything, but you could tell she was a good D cup through her T-shirt. In that moment, all I wanted to do was rip the shirt open to have a look at the cleavage I knew she had. I would give anything to see the mounds of her creamy white chest.

I casually adjusted my now semi hard cock and cleared my throat in the process, alerting her of my presence. She stood up and turned around, looking at me.

"Miss Swan," I said trying to get control of my voice that now sounded slightly higher than usual.

"Mr. Cullen," she said blushing.

I had to clear my throat again. The blush ran down from her cheeks and disappeared into the collar of her shirt, sparking thoughts of seeing her naked and wondering how far the blush actually went. I turned on my heel and left the sporting goods store. There was something far greater that had to be tended to.

I hopped in my car, slammed the car in drive, and squealed out of the parking lot. I was doing a solid hundred and one as I rounded the small curve before slowing down to actually make the turn into my driveway.

The whole way, I thought about Bella and images of her in all types of outfits. Ones with pigtails in her hair and school uniforms, but then there was ones where she was naked lying before me. Oh, her naked was the best.

I pulled into the garage and quickly pressed the button, shutting the garage door. Once the car was off and the door was shut, I released my cock from it's confide. I closed my eyes and let visions of Bella's curvy body play behind my eyelids as I grabbed my rock hard member.

I used the pre-cum on the head as lube and stroked my shaft as the visions of her played out.

I could see her standing in a room at the college with her back to me and her skirt, like the catholic school girls wore, showing off her thick thighs. Her hair was divided and tied with ribbons in pigtails. As she slightly bent over the table, I could see the pretty little pink panties she had on underneath the small skirt.

"Does Daddy like?" she purred.

"Daddy wants more," I replied.

Bella turned around and hopped on the table, spreading her lushes thighs for me to see her. She took her hands and ran them down her thighs, rubbing them around and coming closer to the spot I so desperately wanted to be.

"I've been a bad girl, Daddy," she said.

"You see, I was at school when the need hit me after seeing you walking down the hall, but you couldn't be bothered. So, I took things into my own hands," she said looking down at her hands.

"I couldn't wait and used my hands to pleasure myself, but I shouldn't have because all of my orgasms belong to you. Daddy, I'm so sorry to disappoint you, and I know I need a good spanking for what I have done."

"Yes, you do," I replied walking over to her.

"I still yearn for you. It didn't help," she replied.

"Let me see," I said rubbing my hands down her thighs and into her pink panties.

"Hum, just like I thought," I whispered. She was wet and swollen already; I slid my fingers into her core, gathering her juices.

"Baby Girl, is all this for me?" I asked.

"Every last drop," she moaned as my fingers stroked her walls.

"Why didn't you tell Daddy you were needing some attention?" I asked.

"I was afraid you would get mad at me. I hate disappointing you," she sighed.

I removed my fingers placing them in my mouth.

"You did disappoint me, Baby Girl, but don't worry. After your spanking, it won't happen again," I stated.

She nodded, knowing now was not the time to speak or have an attitude. She had misbehaved and would soon have her spanking.

"Turn around," I demanded.

She hopped off the table, turning around, once again to put her full ass in my view. I lifted her small skirt and rubbed her ass cheeks.

"Who do your orgasms belong to?" I asked still rubbing her ass.

"My Daddy," she replied.

"That's right, and did Daddy give you permission to have an orgasm without him?" I asked landing a warmed up spank to her left cheek.

"No, Daddy," she whimpered a little.

It wasn't a hard smack, just enough to prepare her body for the harder ones to come.

"Will you ever do it again without my permission?" I asked.

"Never again, Daddy, I promise," she replied.

"Good," I said.

I spanked her five times after the warm up. When the last one hit, Bella moaned, causing my already hard cock to twitch. I wanted to thrust into her so badly, but I had to punish her first. And, I wasn't going to reward her for not following orders.

I decided that I needed help with my climax because she had already had one.

"Thank you, Daddy," she said.

"You're welcome, Baby Girl. Now, on your knees. Daddy didn't find his release today, and he is in terrible need," I said looking at her.

She fell to her knees in front of me and worked my dick out of my pants. It didn't take her long to place my hard cock into her warm mouth.

"So good," I moaned as her tongue swirled along the head of my cock.

I watched attentively as she sucked, licked, and worked her mouth up and down my shaft. I pulled her pigtails, forcing her to look in my eyes as she continued to swallow my dick.

"Such a good Baby Girl," I cooed.

"You make Daddy such a happy man," I grunted as her teeth scraped the length of my shaft.

"Just like that Baby," I grunted as she did it again, causing me to cum down her throat.

I sat back in the seat, completely spent and feeling guilty for even allowing myself to indulge in the pleasurable thoughts of being her Daddy. I know it was only a fantasy, but I didn't want to be that person anymore.

I stomped in the house, cursing Jasper for once again being right. But, I was bound and determined to prove him wrong.

~MFIR~

The next couple of weeks were relatively uneventful. I called Jasper and told him I wasn't running anymore of his errands. If he wanted a new life jacket, he was going to have to march down to Newton's and get it himself. He laughed at my expense and hung up. I hadn't heard from him in weeks, and a part of me was beginning to get a little nervous about that. He said that Bella was good for me, but what if he also thought Bella was good for him too? He was currently without a Baby Girl, and I didn't want him corrupting her, nor did I want him to have her.

I had to go to the store to get something when I passed Newton's. Bella was walking from the store to her rusted old truck when she tripped and fell. I quickly whipped the car into a spot and rushed to see about her.

"Are you all right?" I asked rushing to her side.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Are you sure because you fell pretty hard," I said trying to help her up and look her over at the same time.

"I'm sure. This isn't my first rodeo," she said dusting her sweat pants off.

I looked at her attire and noticed, once again, that she wasn't showing off her assets, but trying to hide them.

"This is so embarrassing," she said not even looking at me.

"I'm a klutz. I fall all the time. If I wasn't so stupid, I would have seen the damn hole in the pavement."

"You're not stupid," I replied.

"You're not stupid," I replied.

I couldn't believe she would consider herself stupid for falling down or tripping over the hole in the pavement. We've all had moments.

"I am," she sighed.

I stood there, shocked.

"Apparently, everyone is right about me not being able to do anything. I can't even walk to my truck," she sighed again.

"Thanks for helping me up," she said walking away from me.

I stood there, still speechless. Was her self-worth that low? Did she really think she couldn't do anything?

I turned on my heel and headed back to my car. I gathered the things I needed from the store, but was still concerned about Bella. The majority of my time was spent thinking about her and shamelessly masturbating to images of her being my Baby Girl. I felt so guilty that I had. But, what if she could benefit from some aspect of my lifestyle? Maybe not the punishments, but could she gain the confidence I felt she needed?

It was that very moment that I decided I would find out everything I could about her. What she wrote? Why she wrote it? Was she lonely? And, most importantly, if she loved herself and knew that she was somebody no matter what. I was now a man on a mission.

I called Jasper to tell him my latest revolution. I didn't call him to hear him laugh me under the table, but apparently, there was something extremely funny about me wanting to learn more about Ms. Swan.

~MFIR~

The following week, I spent my afternoons watching Bella coming and going from Newton's, and every day, she walked passed my car with her head down. She didn't display signs of being an overly confident person. She would often bump into others because she wasn't watching where she was going. Of course, sometimes I thought people could have moved out of her way instead of insisting she move from theirs.

I watched Bella for several days and noticed how she dressed. Bella was a beautiful girl, but she never took pride in herself. She never wore makeup or fixed her hair. It was always in a ponytail. She either wore yoga pants or sweats, and her T-shirts were rather worn and tattered. I was quite shocked that Newton's wouldn't require her to wear something better to work. She was always clean and relatively neat, but still took no pride in herself or body, whatsoever.

I was startled by the knocking on my window. I rolled down my tinted windows to see Jasper standing there, smiling.

"Homework," he asked, opening the passenger side door.

"Something like that," I replied.

"Learn anything yet?" he asked.

"Lots," I replied.

"She doesn't have much of a self-esteem," he mused.

"I can tell," I said watching her through the windows of Newton's.

"You should go in there and talk to her," he said nudging my elbow.

"Yeah, maybe," I said.

"Why are you acting all shy? This isn't the dominant I know," he stated.

"I don't know," I replied. I didn't know why I wasn't making my all the others, I had approached them right off the bat, learning about them by dating. When I finally told them about my lifestyle, they already liked the way I treated them. So, it was a no brainer for them to stay, and our relationships would progress into the Daddy and Baby Girl relationship. I never went in guns blazing, and I always gave them a choice to be with me once they learned about my lifestyle.

"Go," Jasper demanded.

I climbed out of the car and walked into Newton's. I stood at the counter and waited for Bella to come around. She walked over to the counter, not even looking, and bumped into me.

"Sorry, I …" she stopped.

"It's okay. Hum … I was wondering if you would like to have coffee with me?" I asked.

"Hum, I don't know," she replied biting her lip.

"What's there to know about? All I want is coffee and maybe to get to know you. I don't know that many people in town, and with my new fishing hobby, I need a friend like you," I said trying to get her to come along.

"We don't have a coffee shop, per se; we could go to the diner," she said still worrying, biting her lip.

"Stop with the lip thing," I demanded.

Her biting and licking her lip with her tongue was driving me wild inside, and if she didn't quit, I wouldn't be able to hold myself back from kissing her.

"Okay," she whispered letting go of her lip.

"When do you get off?" I asked my inner perverted male snickered at the pun.

"In five minutes," she replied.

I decided to wait while she excused herself and did a couple of things around the store.

"I'm ready," she said gathering her things and walking over to me.

"Good," I said walking behind and trying not to watch her ass sway as she was walking. I stepped in front of her and opened the door, allowing her to pass in front of me.

We didn't say anything as we made our way down the strip of stores. The diner was on the end. I opened the door for her again. I caught up to her and lightly placed my hand at the small of her back, guiding her to a booth.

I stopped and waited for her to slide into her spot. Once she was in her spot, I walked to the other side and slid into the bench seat across from her. I picked up the menu that was in the between the napkin dispenser and the salt and pepper.

"So, tell me something no one knows about you?" I asked looking over the menu briefly.

"Oh, umm, I don't like Nutella," she said.

"Well, that's interesting. Why not?"

"I don't know," she said.

"Tell me something everyone knows?" I asked.

"I'm the police chief's daughter," she said as the waitress came along to take our order.

"What can I get for you guys?" the waitress asked winking at Bella.

"I will have a coffee with cream and sugar," I said looking over to Bella.

"I'll have a hot chocolate," she said.

"Let me know if you need anything else," the waitress said, leaving the table.

"Tell me something else about you?" I asked leaning back against the seat.

"There's nothing to tell," she said leaning back in her seat.

"I would like to know more about you, but I won't learn if you don't tell me," I stated calmly. I couldn't understand why she wasn't being more open. We had had a better conversation the first day I met her.

"You're not interested," she said folding her arms across her ample chest.

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

I hadn't given her any indication that I wasn't interested in being her friend or anything.

"Because the other day at Newton's, you said hi and then left like a bat out of hell," she said getting a little hateful.

I probably turned a little red.

"Uhm, the other day in Newton's, things became very difficult for me to handle," I stammered.

God, what was wrong with me? Sex never embarrassed me before. Why, all of the sudden, did it embarrass me to admit to Bella that the reason I left was because I needed to relieve the pressure in my pants?

"What would be difficult to handle in the middle of a sporting goods store?"

"Someone in that store does things to me and makes my body respond; so I had to leave," I said, confidently letting her know.

I was too far gone when it came to her to go back now.

"Oh my God, you're gay," she said looking wide eyed.

"What?" I asked.

"You're gay," she stated.

I sat there, dumbfounded. How did she get gay out of the whole exchange?

"It figures. Men are like parking spaces: all the good ones are either taken or gay," she sighed.

I sat there staring at her. She was rambling on.

"What's it like being with another man? I've read slash fan fictions, and let me tell you, they are HOT," she said slapping her hand over her mouth.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized.

She had a red glow from her conversation; obviously talking about sex embarrassed her.

"I'm not gay, but I have been with a man," I said.

I don't know why I told her that last little bit of information. I was always honest when asked, and maybe that is why I went ahead and told her.

"What was it like?" she asked slapping her hand over her mouth again.

I chuckled.

"I'm so sorry. I'm curious. I just wanted to know, but you don't have to answer that. Just ignore me," she tried to explain.

She was now as red as a fire hydrant.

"Talking about sex embarrasses you, doesn't it?" I asked.

She nodded.

"How about we shelve that discussion for another time?" I asked.

With her being as red as a pickled beet, I figured I wouldn't get any information out of her on the subject, and I wasn't ready to divulge all my secrets.

"So, tell me about your writing," I said.

She shook her head, telling me no.

"Okay, do you want to know about me?" I asked, and she nodded. The conversation about me being gay must have stolen her tongue.

I told her vaguely about my parents, my last girlfriend, and how Jasper was my best friend. We talked briefly about fishing and all the ways you could cook a fish. All in all, the evening turned out rather interesting,even with me still not knowing anymore about her than I already did.

We parted ways at her truck, and I asked her to go with me for coffee tomorrow.

~MFIR~

We had coffee every day for weeks. I learned all about her parents, and how she didn't have any family left. When she told me that, I confided in her about my own situation and how it was so similar.

I asked her about money and how she manages working only part time at Newton's. She replied with 'I manage and I got a little insurance money from my parents.' I didn't know if she was struggling or how she was making it. I assumed her father had paid off the house before he left, but there was a good chance she had worked more at one point to have accomplished this.

It was pretty apparent that with her clothing options, housing, and vehicle options that she rarely spent money on anything. Even when we had coffee, she would always pay for hers, which was absurd, but she wouldn't ever let me cover her coffee. Hell, I even tried to sneak and pay while going to the restroom once. While I was in the bathroom, she had taken care of it.

I figured she was possibly very independent or didn't know that when a male asks you to coffee or dinner, he usually pays the bill. Both were highly likely at this point.

We were sitting at the diner, and I was secretly plotting another way to pay for her beverage when she pulled me from my thoughts.

"I think I might go back to school," she said looking at me.

"That's great. Do you know what you want to do?" I asked.

She wanted to find something, and I would help her anyway possible.

"No, I don't really have any aspiration except maybe one day of becoming a writer."

"You don't have to go to school to become a writer," I said.

It was a fact. Hell, some of the best never did a day of college, and some had even quit school. It just depended on if you wrote something that was of any interest.

"I know, but my grammar is really bad, and I need help," she sighed.

"That's what editors are for anyway. Ernest Hemingway couldn't spell worth a damn, but he was a damn good writer."

"I know, but my stories," she stopped and didn't finish. This was one topic that was off limits with her. I tried several times to engage her in conversation about it, but every time, she would clam up.

"What about your stories? You know I would help you, don't you?" I asked.

"I know," she sighed.

"Look, I can't help unless you tell me about them. I promise I won't judge you because of them. I know it has taken a lot for you to even tell me about writing because a lot of people give you hell about it. I won't though. I don't care what you write per se, as long as you are happy doing it," I said reaching out to grab her hands, feeling the electric shock I felt every time we touched.

"I want to be better now, not tomorrow, and I can't get into Creative Writing without taking the pre requirements for the class."

"Yes, you can, if you have the professor's approval. Which college are you planning on going to?" I asked. I taught Creative Writing and was the only professor on campus who did. So, the approval would have to come from me, if she went to Peninsula.

"With a professor's approval," she repeated what I had said, and her eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

"Yes, now what college?" I asked, smiling. I was still holding her hand and stroked it back and forth, hopefully encouraging her to open up more.

"Peninsula," she said.

"Consider it done. The new semester starts in a couple of weeks. I expect to see you in class," I said winking at her, which caused her to giggle. It was the best sound in the world. She didn't giggle or even laugh often. Something had come along and destroyed this beautiful girl's happiness, and I was going to do everything to put it right again.

**A/N: All right … Jasper that sneaky dog sending him to Bella. Edward still feels guilty for imagining Bella that way. He will come around, I promise. Bella isn't a strong one in this story. She has a very low self esteem and low value of ****herself. This is the way I want her, and she is me here. Mike has beaten her into the ground with lies. The rejections she receives from people and constantly feeling like she's nothing are what contributes to her lack of worth. Edward wants to build that up because that is what he does with his Baby Girls. He helps them met their potential. As always be kind and review.**


	5. Coffee Dates and Plot Bunnies

**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

_The ladies who I run around in circles to correct my writings: Dannibags and piesmom. They have become my best friends in this whole adventure into fanfiction land. Thank you ladies for all the work you put into cleaning me up!_

_Bella's coffee dates have revealed another level to Mr. Cullen that Bella didn't know. What happens when her conversations with him turns into plot bunnies for her fan fiction writing?_

Chapter 5

Coffee Dates and Plot Bunnies

BPOV

I hated going into work. Mike was being a major pain in the ass about my writing here lately. Every time he saw me, he had to rub more salt into the wound he had already created. I tried to ignore him, but he would sometimes override everything inside of me. I even had a few days of wandering around the house with nothing better to do. To say the least, my house was spotless because of his words.

Walking into the store, I didn't notice any of the customers around. I was once again lost in my own little fantasy world. I dropped the pen from my clipboard and reached down to pick it up when I heard someone's throat clearing. I straightened up to see Mr. Cullen standing behind me.

"Miss Swan," he said. His voice sounded a little higher than it did the last time, but it didn't really matter.

"Mr. Cullen," I said. I could feel the heat rise in my body and knew I had to be blushing.

He cleared his throat again and stared at me, causing me to blush once more. Then he turned on his heel and left the store. I watched through the window of the store as his car spun out of the parking lot. What had I done? Was it even me? I turned around to see Mike tapping his foot like a pissed off woman.

"What?" I asked, looking at him.

"What did you say to make him run off?" he asked hatefully.

"Nothing," I replied, walking back behind the counter.

"You were talking about that damn fan fiction again, I bet," he huffed.

"Actually no, I wouldn't talk about that with the customers unless they specifically started talking about it first. And, I don't mean them seeing me writing on my clipboard either," I sneered.

"Good! I would hate to see you run off customers with talks of nonsense," he said, leaving the front of the store. He usually stayed in the back, unpacking things and playing on the computer. So, when he disappeared, I breathed a sigh of relief.

I pulled out my clipboard and stood there trying to plan the next chapter of my dominant story, but nothing was coming to me. All I could think about was why Mr. Cullen had fled from the store.

When I finally got home, things weren't going any better. I was still wondering what could have driven him from the store. I couldn't even write. So I curled up on my couch with my cats and read the reviews I had been neglecting.

~MFIR~

The next couple of weeks were boring as hell. Mr. Cullen never came back to the store, but I saw the other gentleman from the grocery store once or twice. This time around though, he wasn't as friendly, and I figured it was the same thing that happened to all the males in this one horse town. They all thought I was too heavy, too obsessed, or too ugly. I couldn't tell, but if they did stay around long enough. the obsessed card would be played. Mr. Whitlock didn't know that I wrote fan fiction; so I tossed that idea out and went with the other two.

Who was I kidding? Even Mr. Cullen ran out of here like a scolded dog. What made me think that Mr. Whitlock would be even remotely interested?

To say the least, my self esteem took a huge nose dive after Mr. Cullen fled and Mr. Whitlock barely spoke to me. Apparently, Mike Newton was all I could get, and that wasn't good enough. I would rather die alone with my cats than to give him the time of day.

I was thinking about this when I tripped and fell over a damn hole in the pavement. I had sat back on my knees and was dusting my hands off when I heard his voice.

"Are you all right?" he asked, running toward me.

"Yeah," I whispered. God, I was embarrassed to have fallen in front of him.

"Are you sure because you fell pretty hard?" he said, trying to help me up.

"I'm sure. This isn't my first rodeo," I said, dusting off my sweat pants. "This is so embarrassing," I said, looking down at the ground.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm a klutz. I fall all the time. If I wasn't so stupid, I would have seen the damn hole in the pavement."

"You're not stupid," he replied.

I was stupid. Mike told me that almost every day of my life. How stupid I was to write. How stupid I was to want to sing karaoke. Trust me, I knew how stupid I was and with me not seeing the damn hole, proved it once again.

"I am," I sighed.

"Apparently, everyone is right about me not being able to do anything. I can't even walk to my truck," I sighed again.

"Thanks for helping me up," I said, walking away from him. If I continued to talk, I would spout off more stupid shit; so I wanted to get away from him. He didn't want to be around me anyway. He was trying to be nice, that was all.

I watched him turn and head back to his vehicle, where he pulled out of the parking lot. I leaned my head against the steering wheel. How did I manage to embarrass myself in front of the one person in Forks that I thought was hot? I knew I was stupid and couldn't do anything right. I raised my head and started my truck, pulling away from the curb and toward my house.

I gathered my things and walked toward the house. Goatie walked up at the same time.

"Well, hello there handsome," I cooed at him.

"Meow," he replied.

"Have a good day out?" I asked.

"Meow, Meow," he replied again.

I loved when he talked to me like that it made me feel like he understood what I was asking him. He wrapped around my legs as I opened the front door and allowed him to enter in front of me. I guess I was just destined to be lonely for the rest of my life.

~MFIR~

My writing became a constant for the next couple of weeks, and I currently was promoting my stories on four different sites. I even started my very own blog, something I had never done before.

Things were going great, looking up even. Who needed Sunblocked anyway? Alice and Rose were working their butts off for me, and I was getting great reviews. Don't get me wrong, there were some that were a little mean. I really had to fight with myself to not let them bother me, but I pulled my big girl pants on and moved forward. That was until Rose's computer crashed and burned.

Adjusting to only having one beta wasn't difficult, but I missed talking to Rose. She would always tell me about her life and how things were where she lived. But, she couldn't help what happened, and I understood.

Now that I was down a beta, a lot of stuff started happening, and I learned more about the group of people who loved the fandom just as much as I did. They had contests, fundraisers, and it was almost like the fandom was determined to unite the world, one story at a time. Of course, I thought everything was totally awesome and joined some of the contests.

I stood at the counter for a long time, working on my story while the store was empty. I heard the bell over the door ring while I was in the bathroom and hurried out so someone would be in the front. If I didn't, Mike would try to say I was neglecting the customers. So, when I rounded the corner of the counter, I wasn't looking up and ran smack into a hard body.

"Sorry, I …" I stopped. I looked up and saw Mr. Cullen standing in front of me.

"It's okay. Hum … I was wondering if you would like to have coffee with me?" he asked.

"Hum, I don't know," I replied, biting my lip. Why was he asking me to coffee? He wasn't interested in someone like me; the other day proved that he wasn't.

"What's there to know about? All I want is coffee and maybe to get to know you. I don't know that many people in town, and with my new fishing hobby, I need a friend like you," he said.

It figures I would be the one to play welcoming committee in this town. I figured I would take one for the team and go out to coffee with him. It wasn't like I was going to learn anything new. Hell, I wouldn't give him anything to talk about with the others in town. It was bad enough that they whispered as I walked by, and I figured that was all Mike's doing.

"We don't have a coffee shop, per se; we could go to the diner," I said, still biting my lip. I was ready for him to bolt again.

"Stop with the lip thing," he demanded, shocking the crap out of me. I had never heard anyone's tone be so forceful. I've heard Mike mad and heard him yell up a storm, but never had a commanding tone like Mr. Cullen.

"Okay," I whispered, letting go of my lip. After hearing his voice, I didn't want to disappoint him.

"When do you get off?" he asked.

"In five minutes," I replied quickly, not wanting to disappoint Mr. Cullen.

But if I wanted off in five minutes, I had to hurry and get everything done. When I finally got things done and let Mrs. Newton knew I was leaving for the day, I walked out to Mr. Cullen, who was still standing by the counter.

"I'm ready," I said, gathering my things.

"Good," he said, allowing me to walk in front of him. I wondered if he was afraid I would disappear or something. I wasn't the one who would be pulling a disappearing act. When I reached for the door, he stepped in front of me, opening the door, and allowing me to pass through. At least he was being a gentleman about things. Not every male I knew would even open the door for someone like me. I've seen it done with the pretty girls running around town, but never me.

I walked in front of him, the whole way leading him to the diner. He caught up with me, and once again stepped in front of me to open the door. I once again step in as he held it open. When I felt his hand at the lower part of my back, I panicked for a moment. But, thought that he was only guiding me to a booth for us to sit; it didn't mean anything.

When we arrived at the booth, he stopped and waited for me to slide into my spot. I briefly wondered if he would sit beside me, but I knew he wasn't interested, so why did I think he would? Once I was seated, he walked to the other side and slid into the booth. He picked up the menu and looked it over. I wasn't planning on eating, and I thought he wanted coffee, not dinner. So, I watched him as he read the menu.

"So, tell me something no one knows about you?" he asked, looking over the menu at me. I wasn't about to tell him about my fantasies of being tied up. No, we weren't talking about sex here. And, this town knew everything about me. Mike made sure of that. So, I had to dig deep for something that meant nothing, in case it was spread around town. I wanted to trust Mr. Cullen, but there was something about him that caused me to pause when it came to talking about me personally.

"Oh umm, I don't like Nutella," I said.

"Well, that's interesting. Why not?"

"I don't know," I said.

I knew why I didn't like Nutella. I just wasn't a big fan of chocolate peanut butter. I like Reese Cups, but I liked keeping the two separate. I was weird, plain and simple.

"Tell me something everyone knows?" he asked. Did he already know about me? If he asked around town, they would all tell him I was the daughter of a Police Chief, and I was an old maid.

"I'm the police chief's daughter," I said, as Gayle came along to take our order.

"What can I get for you guys?" Gayle asked. She probably thought I had a chance with Mr. Cullen, or she, at least, thought he was good look especially being that she winked at me. I had known Gayle for years, and she wasn't like the other women in town who would gossip. Gayle would keep to herself and never judged me for being anything less than I was. She knew about my love for fan fictions because she too was a closet reader. I never gave her my penname, even though she begged to know it, but I didn't want her to see all the things I wrote about. It was bad enough I allowed strangers that privilege, but as far as I knew, they didn't live in my hometown. They for sure didn't know my real name. Only a selected few in the fandom knew my true identity, and I wanted to keep it that way for a good long while.

"I will have a coffee with cream and sugar," he said, looking over at me.

"I'll have a hot chocolate," I said. Gayle and I had devised a code for the men I would come here with from time to time. Hot Chocolate was 'he wasn't interested' and Black Coffee was 'I wasn't interested'. 'Sweet Ice Tea' was if he was interested and adding lemon allowed her to know that I was interested. To say the least, I never got lemon with my tea. Hell, I had yet to even order Tea with a male present.

"Let me know if you need anything else," she said, leaving the table.

"Tell me something else about you?" he asked, leaning back against the seat.

"There's nothing to tell," I said, leaning back against my seat. There wasn't anything about me to tell.

"I would like to know more about you, but I won't learn if you don't tell me," he said.

"You're not interested," I said, folding my arms across my chest. Why were we playing twenty questions? Yes, he knew I read and wrote fan fiction, but I knew he wasn't interested. He would have stayed and talked to me that day, if he had been. Hell, I figured when you were interested in somebody, you would stop by just to talk, and he hadn't done that either.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"Because the other day at Newton's, you said hi and then left like a bat out of hell." I snipped.

He went from looking calm to turning pink and looking a little embarrassed. I couldn't figure him out at all.

"Uhm, the other day in Newton's, things became very difficult for me to handle," he stammered.

He always seemed so confident. So why was he stammering and blushing all of a sudden?

"What would be difficult to handle in the middle of a sporting goods store?" I asked.

I wanted to know what would be so difficult about being in a sporting goods store.

"Someone in that store does things to me and makes my body respond; so I had to leave," he said.

Of course, with my mind being in the gutter, I remember that Mike was close by when Mr. Cullen was in the store. Maybe he saw Mike wink at me, thinking it was him, or maybe he was attracted to Mike.

The words flew out of my mouth before I could control them, "Oh my God, you're gay," I said.

"What?" he asked.

"You're gay," I stated.

I couldn't believe I had said that in front of him. Usually if I thought that about somebody, I would watch them to see if I could tell. Mr. Cullen had never given me the impression that he was, but I had been wrong before. He sat there staring at me with this weird expression on his face. If he wasn't gay, I was expecting a look of repulsion, but I didn't see one and figured he was indeed gay.

"It figures. Men are like parking spaces: all the good ones are either taken or gay," I sighed.

"I should have known," I rambled.

"What's it like being with another man? I've read slash fan fictions, and let me tell you, they are HOT," I said, slapping my hand over my mouth.

"I'm so sorry," I apologized. It was one thing to think it, another to actually say it, but to ask him how the sex was, well that was another thing all in its self.

"I'm not gay, but I have been with a man," he said.

I thought I was going to choke on my hot chocolate.

"What was it like?" I asked, slapping my hand back over my mouth again.

He chuckled.

"I'm so sorry. I'm curious. I just wanted to know, but you don't have to answer that. Just ignore me," I rambled, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

"Talking about sex embarrasses you, doesn't it?" he asked.

I nodded because I couldn't speak. If I did, something stupid would come out of my mouth.

"How about we shelve that discussion for another time?" he asked.

"So, tell me about your writing," he said.

I shook my head, telling him no. I wasn't about to tell him about the things I wrote.

"Okay, do you want to know about me?" he asked, and I nodded. I was scared to even open my mouth for fear something wrong would come out. I had already made a load of mistakes in this conversation, and I wasn't about to make anymore.

He told me about his parents and how they had died, about his friend Jasper, whom I had meet in the store a while back, and how Jasper had helped him get over the death of his parents. He even told me about his last girlfriend; how she was promoted, and then left him for another man. I told him all the different ways you could prepare fish, having learned them while living with Charlie. All in all, the conversation really changed, and I could see myself opening up around him.

"Would you like to have coffee tomorrow?" he asked.

I couldn't say no. I mean, he admitted that something in the sporting goods store had affected him, and it wasn't Mike, so what was it? A part of me wanted to see if it was me. So, going for coffee again wouldn't be a bad thing plus staring into his green eyes was giving me ideas for my stories.

~MFIR~

We had coffee every day for weeks. I told him everything I wanted about my money, but I still wouldn't allow him to know how much I really had. I tried to keep everything on the down low, when it came to my money. The town's folk thought I had gambled it all away somehow or spent it on some random man in Vegas. However, they didn't know for sure. Hell, not even Mike knew the true story about my money.

When I won the lottery, I had picked taking the lump sum at once. When I sat down with an accountant in Port Angeles, I decided that I would deposit the check. Then we would transfer some money into savings accounts and IRA's, stuff of that nature to start to earn interest. I deposited the check here in Forks, and when the local teller started gossiping to everyone about how much money I had received, I decided to withdrawal all my money and move it to a bank in Port Angeles, where no one knew me. No one knew how much I had and that was fine with me. I left Forks for a month or two, and everyone thought I had blown the money. So, it was a good situation for me. I lived in the same house as my father, drove the beast I had always had, and saved money. Everyone believed the lie that I had blown it or gambled it away on something useless.

We were sitting at the diner one day talking about the next step in life.

"I think I might go back to school," I said, looking at him.

"That's great. Do you know what you want to do?" he asked.

"No, I don't really have any aspirations except maybe one day becoming a writer."

"You don't have to go to school to become a writer," he said.

"I know, but my grammar is really bad, and I need help," I sighed.

"That's what editors are for anyway. Ernest Hemingway couldn't spell worth a damn, but he was a damn good writer."

"I know, but my stories," I stopped. I was about to tell him about my stories, but that was something I wanted to keep from everyone. He had tried several times to get me to show him or tell him about them, but I wouldn't. I refused. If I allowed him into that part of my life, he would definitely run away. I felt like I was treading on thin water just reading stories, let alone telling him what they were about.

"What about your stories? You know I would help you, don't you?" he asked.

"I know," I sighed. He was adamant about helping me, and there were times I wanted his help, but the fear that he wouldn't talk to me anymore resonated at the back of my brain.

"Look, I can't help unless you tell me about them. I promise I won't judge you because of them. I know it has taken a lot for you to even tell me about writing because a lot of people give you hell about it. I won't though. I don't care what you write per se, as long as you are happy doing it," he said, reaching out to grab my hand. The electric shock happened like every time we touched, and I had become used to it.

"I want to be better now, not tomorrow, and I can't get into Creative Writing without taking the pre requirements for the class."

"Yes, you can, if you have the professor's approval. Which college are you planning on going to?" he asked.

I knew he taught Creative Writing and was one of the professors on campus. So, he would know, but why didn't Mrs. Cope tell me that when I was talking to her about classes?

"With a professor's approval," I repeated.

I could go if I had the professor's approval without having to take all those other classes.

"Yes, now what college?" he asked, smiling.

"Peninsula," I said, as he continued to stroke my hand.

"Consider it done. The new semester starts in a couple of weeks. I expect to see you in class," he said, winking at me. I giggled.

When I left the coffee shop, a whole lot of plot bunnies entered my mind, and I finished off two chapters worth of my dominant story. I was proud of my achievement until it dawned on me what Edward has said.

"Consider it done. The new semester starts in a couple of weeks. I expect to see you in class."

I slumped back in my chair.

Shit! He would be reading things I would be writing for his class. Something he might think is stupid or pointless. Something that didn't make sense or worse, he wouldn't like anything I had written and cause our friendship to dissolve when he would have to fail me for poor grammar. It was official, I was screwed.

But, I needed the guidance and maybe, just maybe, with him being my friend, he would guide me along. I crossed my fingers and hoped that everything would go well.

~MFIR~

My second chapter came in from the beta group, and once again, it looked like someone has splashed red paint all over the word document. I was digging through it, trying to figure out what the new group of editors wanted from me. I was more confused than anything, and I wanted to pull every last hair out of my head. How did anyone ever learn what to do with all these marks? One editor would suggest something, and then another one would comment with another suggestion. I tried, but everything was a mess.

I sent my first chapter back to them with the revisions the three wanted and tried to request that they only give me the same three people every time. Trying to listen to and following instruction from six different people was becoming terribly confusing and aggravating.

I read every last article on how to do all kinds of things, but nothing would stick in my stupid brain. I read over and over, trying to figure it out. I finally gave up and thought I would wait until I was in class to see what Mr. Cullen would teach or how he would edit something.

The week before classes started, I joined a contest and tried to work on just writing one shots instead of multiple chapters. I think I pulled it off rather nicely and developed a fairly decent story or that was what I thought. Once the other contestant had their stories up to read, I felt like I didn't stand a chance in hell. Everyone's stories were so much better than my own. I should have known better, being so new to this whole writing scene.

If I wasn't feeling down about the contest and not being able to have coffee with Mr. Cullen because he was busy, then I shouldn't have opened my email. Along with my first chapter revisions, I had an email from the group of betas. They politely informed me that until I learned more or cleaned up my work, they would no longer be accepting anymore of my chapters. I felt like crying. I had done everything I thought they wanted, and it still wasn't good enough. Apparently, I should have listened to Alice and hung up my hat, but no, I had to go and do it anyway.

It was in that moment that I felt like everything I had been working on for months on end were crumpling in front of my eyes. I couldn't get to class fast enough to fix my problems.

_**A/N: I hope you are enjoying this journey. Some of the things Bella goes through are the things I have had to endure as I have made my way into the fandom. As always be kind and review … they warm my heart.**_


	6. College and Beta Services

_**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**_

_**The ladies who I run around in circles to correct my writings: Dannibags and piesmom. They have become my best friends in this whole adventure into fanfiction land. Thank you ladies for all the work you put into cleaning me up!**_

_**Edward wants Bella to open up about her stories, but when she constantly refuses, Edward takes things into his own hands and finds the websites himself. Will Edward be able to locate Bella's story and what will he think about it?**_

_Chapter 6_

_College and Beta Services_

_EPOV_

It didn't take long for me to get Bella enrolled into the Creative Writing course here at Peninsula. All it took was a couple sly winks and a few of the patent Cullen smirks to get Mrs. Cope to quickly agree. It was as easy as taking pie from a baby with that one. Women are typical; give them a little attention, the panty dropping smile, and they were ready to drop their pants to be what you wanted them to be. I hated that aspect at times. Of course, women could probably say the same thing about men; show them a little T and A, and they are begging at your feet. Yeah, that wouldn't work for someone like me. I wasn't that easily persuaded.

I guess I had toughened up my skin when it came to things like that because of my position at the college. Girls in my class thought all they had to do was show me a little skin or promise to do things for me, and I would magically pass them. I guess they learned real quick when they didn't pass no matter how many times they wore miniskirts and bent over in front of me, showing their asses. I knew at the first of the semester who would be the ones to watch for, and I would watch my interactions with them. Hell, I had made it a policy to avoid ones like that, and if they came to my office because their grades were failing, I would admittedly have another colleague step into the room to monitor the situation.

Peter, one of the Professors in Chicago, had gotten accused of wrongdoing with a student in his class. She had come to him during his office hours, and when he wouldn't give her the grade she wanted, she accused him of sexual harassment. To say the least, he lost his job, his career, and his wife with a lie. It didn't come out until the girl was kicked out for her behavior that she had lied, but the damage was done. After that incident, all the male professors were scared that something like that could happen to them. So we would either call a female professor or the dean to supervisor our office hours.

Here at Peninsula though, I didn't have that many problems. A lot of the students that attended seemed more mature or something. I knew it was always a potential, but hadn't seen it here yet.

I walked away from work with a smile on my face, happy to give Bella the news. I had told her I would take care of everything, and I did. She only wanted Creative Writing and that is what she got. However, I wished she would take more classes to better herself, and I was planning on telling her that once again. I don't know, maybe she would be able to get out of this small town if she had the tools. But, that thinking caused me great pain because if she left, I would dearly miss her, but not only that, I would have to follow her. I needed her like air to breathe. She made me smile and brightened my day. Hell, if I wasn't talking to her in some way, shape, or form, I felt naked. We had a standing date for dinner now every day at six. So, I couldn't wait to give her the news and see if she would once again open up about her writing. I was dying to figure out what she could do and what she wrote. I was also curious as to why she kept everything so secret from me.

I climbed into my car and headed straight to the diner. I would wait there for her because boss man was getting his pants in a knot if I hung around the store. It was okay when I was shopping or planning on buying something, but when I would stand at the counter to chat with her, he would give her the stink eye. The last time we had dinner, she asked if she could meet me here instead. I hated it and wanted to tell that little shit to calm down. It wasn't like Newton's was busy, and if a customer had needed her, I would have patiently awaited her return. He made some dumbass comment about her not being able to have visitors at work or fraternize with the customers. I wanted to march in there and ask him how much money I had spent at his shitty little store. I had bought crap I would never use just to get a glimpse of Bella sometimes, and that was before the whole first coffee date. I had to hound the hell out of her after that first time to go again. It eventually turned into a daily coffee date, then dinner every night. I was the happiest I had been in a long time.

I didn't want her to lose her job because I didn't know her financial status, and she had asked me not to say anything about it. She said it would only make it harder on her, and I figured he would. That's the day she broke down and told me all the negative things he had said to her about her writing. To say the least, I didn't like him one bit, and I noticed him watching her like a hawk too, whenever I was around. It was almost like he was pissing on her leg every time I was there. I didn't like it, and I really didn't like him.

I pulled into the parking lot and waved at Bella in Newton's as I walked by the window. I always park in Newton's parking lot, and I was waiting for Mr. Newton to have a problem with that too. Hell, I was banking on it. I had a few things to say to him.

I walked into the diner where I saw Gayle, the waitress, nodding my head in the direction of the booth Bella and I had been occupying the last couple of weeks. Gayle was a nice older woman, and she often times winked at Bella when she would set down Bella's drink. I figured they had known each other for a really long time, and I knew she would have answers for me. But, she would never answer a one of them. She would turn the questions back on me, wanting to know my intentions. I always answered the best I could and would tell her right now it was friendship. She didn't say much, but I knew she was just looking out for Bella. Gayle walked over to the table carrying my coffee.

"Back again?" she asked, smiling.

"I like learning more about her," I said, as she placed the coffee and creams down in front of me.

"I'm sure you do," she replied, still smiling.

That was basically the stent of our conversations. I had opened the creamers, stirring them into my coffee, when I heard the bell chime above the doors of the diner. I looked up in time to see Bella walking through. She always looked radiate, but she never wore anything that would show off her body. Hell, today's ensemble was yoga pants with a tee-shirt pulled almost down to her knees. I wanted to take her shopping to buy her things that fit her better, highlighting her assets that I knew she had. You could see them trying to bust out of her shirt, and when her shirt rose, you could see the assets she had in her yoga pants too.

She caught sight of me and kind of waved before her head lowered to the ground to walk. I shook my head; I wanted her chin up and proud, not dragging along. God, I need to find a way to crack open her shell. There was one way to crack it open, but I wasn't going to go there just yet. I needed more time to figure out my way in the door, and with her becoming my student, I would have to tone it down until she was no longer in my class.

I smiled broadly as she sat down, and of course, she didn't see it, once again.

"So, how was work?" I asked because I always had to ask her something to get her talking. It's like she would clam up around me now a days.

"Fine," she said, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Stop that," I demanded. It was all I could do to control myself around her, and when she started that lip biting thing, it threatened my control. She quickly stopped and looked around the table.

"Newton give you hard time today?" I asked.

"No, but he doesn't like you parking your car in his parking lot. Especially, if you are not buying anything," she said, looking at me for the first time.

"Yes, well tell him to come out and stop me," I replied. I wanted that little shit to say something to me about it. And, when he did, I was going to tell him to shove it up his ass.

"I won't tell him that, but I did want you to know in case you wanted to park somewhere else," she said, begging me with those chocolate brown eyes. She wanted me to stop parking there so it wouldn't cause trouble for her. It was the same damn look she gave me when I wanted to say something about me hanging out at the store, but once again, I would cave for her. I didn't like it, and I knew that she was being treated like a doormat when it came to Newton, but I didn't know how to get passed it at the moment.

"So, have you written any new stories?" I asked. I was always looking for a way to trip her up so she would tell me about them. And I thought maybe she would still be thinking about work and just blurt it out.

However, that didn't work, and she didn't say a word, but shook her head 'no'.

"I talked to Mrs. Cope, the academic advisor, assigned to you. She was able to get you into the Creative Writing course at Peninsula. The next semester starts in January."

"Thank you so much for doing that. I really appreciate it, but you didn't have to," she said, getting ready to chew on her bottom lip again until I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"I know I didn't have to, but you wanted to attend the course. It was just a matter of having the Professor's approval." I smirked.

"Yes, but I might have pushed a little too hard," she whispered.

"Why? Do you not want to take the classes now?" I asked, perplexed. Hadn't we discussed her wanting to go to school? Had Newton said something to her to change her mind? Why was she having second thoughts?

She huffed, blew her hair out of her eyes, and pushed it behind her ear.

"Look, I want to take the course, but is there any way I can have another Professor?" she asked, looking at me.

"Why would you want another Professor?" I asked, still completely puzzled. It was like she had done a one eighty on going to school.

She sighed and looked down at her shirt, finding it amusing all of the sudden.

She sat there for a little bit. When I couldn't take the silence anymore, the Dom in me took over.

"Answer me," I demanded.

She looked at me with wide eyes, almost stunned at the tone of my voice. She still didn't say anything, but I had her attention.

"I said answer me," I barked.

She blinked her eyes and swallowed hard.

"I am afraid for you to see what I would write," she whispered.

"I couldn't hear you, Isabella," I countered. I wanted her to be able to talk to me, instead of acting shy. She had to learn how to demand things and speak up for herself.

"I'm afraid you will see what I write and think I am stupid," she said stronger.

"Thank you," I replied. She had spoken up louder and that is what I wanted. I didn't want her to be shy and quiet around me. I wanted to know what she was thinking or writing. I wanted to learn more, and with her not wanting to admit things to me, it made it harder for me to get to know her better.

"Now, I wouldn't think you are stupid, and I would be able to guide you through it. I would be able to teach you how to write better, and with that, you would look smarter. That is my purpose in life, to teach you things that you missed or had a hard time learning the first time around. Remember, you are not the only person who will be in my class with bad grammar." I shrugged because I didn't care if she could write a paragraph at this point. I would help her learn, and if our dinner time turned into extra help, then so be it. But my biggest worry was about the other students thinking I was being partial to her because I was. I had already given her my approval to enter the course, and I wanted to nurture her, so I was sure everyone would notice. Then I had to worry about not showing my true colors at the moment and not letting the sexual tension I felt every time I was around her seep through.

I guess she had her own concerns, and I had mine, but I knew we could make it work. I was more determined than ever to see what she had written on those fan fiction sites, and I briefly wondered if I could sneak a peek at her clipboard.

She didn't say anything more about the course, and I too had dropped the subject. I really wanted to talk her into taking other courses, but maybe I needed to wait until after she had taken mine to broach the subject again.

I sipped on my coffee as she sipped on her tea. Gayle came back and placed our food down in front of us. We casually talked about other areas of interest, which for some odd reason always went back to fishing. I hadn't went fishing again since the last time Jasper had sent me to Newton's to find a life jacket to tell you the truth. I didn't know much and didn't see the appeal of sitting out in a boat all day long in the cold. I would rather be running or doing something that would keep my body moving and in shape.

It didn't take long before my coffee was stone cold and I didn't want it anymore. Bella was sucking on the lemon in her tea, driving me crazy. Neither one of us hardly even touched our food that night. I think something was just a little off. A part of me wanted to demand her to stop sucking on the lemon, but another part of me wanted to beg her to do that to me. I wasn't going to stop her because I was enjoying it just a little too much, and the fact that having her do those things to me with her tongue would head down the road I wanted to avoid right now. Especially with us getting ready to embark on a student and teacher relationship. I watched her in silence, shifting in my seat. She didn't even know what she was doing to me.

When she was ready to leave, I couldn't even get up to walk her to her truck. I told her I was going to stay a little longer and finish my dinner. However, all I needed was a couple of minutes to sit here and clear my mind. I watched her walk out the door and down to her truck, which I could see from here. When I was satisfied she was safe, I got up, paid the tab, and walked to my vehicle.

On the drive home, I thought more about her writing fan fiction and decided that I was definitely going to figure out where she had posted her work. How hard could it be to locate her?

~MFIR~

It took me weeks on end to find my way around those websites, and I still didn't think I was any closer to finding out which one was Bella's. I thought there would only be a handful of people writing these types of stories. I was totally wrong. Apparently, Bella wasn't the only person in the world inspired by the story. I had heard others talk about it with different books that had been featured in fan fictions, but never to this magnitude. I was completely baffled.

It had taken me about one day to rule out the website I stumbled on first, and the only reason I ruled it out was because it had a strict submission policy. Sunblocked was a little stricter with their grammar rules and would only allow ten mistakes. If Bella's grammar was bad, and she wanted to attend classes to get better then she wouldn't be posting here. I had already wasted a day reading through half their stories though.

Fantasyjunkie was the next site on my list and even though they suggested a well written story, they didn't have a strict submission policy. So, I planned on signing up for an account. The only problem was trying to come up with a name. I didn't want it too girlish because I wasn't a girl, but I didn't want to attract attention of being a male either. I assumed that the majority of writer's were women, but I could be wrong in my assessment.

I checked out the other sites listed, and they had a load of stories too. I briefly wondered how many websites Bella posted on? And, would it be easier to find her on another website? Certainly, finding her on those other sites proved to be of no luck. It seemed everyone or about everyone hid behind a pen name, and she wouldn't tell me. I tried every day we had met to get her to talk about her writing, hoping she would provide me with a clue into her mind, but she still refused to talk about it.

Defeated and still trying to figure her out, I came home every night to sit and read. It wasn't long before all the mistakes in the stories were taking a toll on my mind. So, within a matter of minutes on Fantasyjunkie, Master Callhum became a beta reader. It was simple. All I had to do was write a six thousand word story and presto, Master Callhum was a beta. It was kind of disappointing that someone could write that many words and become a beta without truly knowing what to do, but it wasn't my battle to fight, and I was on a mission.

I had an alternate email account started and was hiding behind my own penname. I sent out a couple of emails to the authors I was already reading. I was hoping that one of them would turn out to be Bella. But, so far I couldn't tell. The majority of people I beta'd for had emails with their pen names, and the ones I contacted who actually used their real names, I didn't want to help anymore. But, I wasn't one to turn down an opportunity to teach someone else the wonderful world of the English language, so I continued on the principle of teaching someone new.

I reached for my cell phone when it rang and saw it was Jasper.

"Hello," I answered.

"Hey man, what's up?" he asked.

"Nothing much, correcting papers," I replied because it was essentially the same thing I did at school all the time. Read the story, fix grammar, add notes for adding or taking away from the plotline; same ole same ole.

"I thought classes ended last week. Usually you already have the last stories completed by now," he mused.

"I have taken another adventure under my belt at the moment."

"Ah, does this having something to do with the lovely Miss Swan?" he asked.

"She writes fan fiction, and I am trying to figure out where to find her stories. They are all published on the internet … somewhere."

"I see. Why don't you just ask her?" he asked.

"I have. She won't tell me her pen name or anything about the stories she writes."

"Why do you want to know? Why not just wait for her to come to you?"

"I told you about her writing and how it interested me. She's not going to open up because that jerk of a boss keeps putting her down. I need a way in, and I think I could help her."

"Why don't I come over and help you?" he asked. I wasn't about to turn down his help at this point. He had guided me through everything in life, why not this too?

"Fine, bring beer. I will call and order a pizza. Pick it up on your way over. We will be here all night. You haven't been looking around these websites the last couple of days, and you are going to have a hard time trying to figure this out," I sighed.

"On my way," he replied, hanging up the phone.

I finished up reading and was about to start on the other story I had said I would help with when Jasper walked in through the door. His hands were full of pizza boxes and beer, but he also had his laptop bag slung over his shoulder.

He smirked at me when I raised my eyebrows when I saw his bag.

"Look, I am not going to stand behind you all night trying to look. We can accomplish more if we both have something to work with."

I nodded, maybe he was right. Maybe we would be able to narrow it down. Jasper and I would argue more if we used the same computer anyway. Jasper was an IT technician and knew his way in and out of a computer. He would often fix mine, when I had it in a mess. Our biggest problem with us working on the same one would be that he would want me to do something, while I was still trying to figure out something else.

I grabbed the pizzas, bringing them over to the dining room table where I was seated while I looked over the websites and worked on stories. Jasper sat his laptop on the table and took the beer to the refrigerator. When he returned, he handed me a Corona and sat up his computer to the right of me.

"You know we could know who she is in a matter of a few minutes," he stated, with a sly smirk on his face.

"How is that O' Great One?" I asked. I knew where this was going.

"I could break in her house while she is at work, and within a matter of minutes, I would know everything about her."

"We're not doing that," I stated. Jasper wanted to live the life of a secret spy, and it didn't shock me one bit when he mentioned sneaking into her house.

"Why didn't you ever become a private investigator?" I asked. If he had gone into that career choice, maybe I wouldn't be sitting here trying to figure her out. Maybe if she would open up more about her writing, I wouldn't be digging around for her stories either.

"Because it wouldn't pay the bills," he replied, as he fired up his laptop. I quickly told him the website I was on and who I was reading and editing at the moment.

"Do you realize you are reading stories that are rated T?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied, while reading a sentence and correcting the punctuation the author had used.

"How does Bella act when she talks about her writing? Is she shy and reserved about it? Has she said anything that would seem a little odd for a person to blurt out, or maybe something you wouldn't talk about in public?" he questioned.

I tried to think back to all of the conversations we have had, and the majority of them had revolved around fishing and cooking. I sat back in my chair and pondered.

"She's embarrassed with talking about sex, but I don't find that exactly unusual, a lot of people have that issue. Uhm, the only thing that struck me odd is when she asked about me about being gay, and what it was like being with a man."

"Yeah, that was kind of funny, her wanting to know what is was like …" Jasper's eye widened "… what if she was asking because those are the kinds of stories she likes?"

"What do you mean?"

"What if your girl is a closet slash reader?"

"You lost me with the word slash, and yeah, she said she read slash, and it's HOT," I said.

He chuckled.

"Slash means a pairing between the same sexes, Edward. How long have you been reading fan fictions?" he taunted.

"Oh, okay. So, you're thinking maybe she writes slash fics?" I asked, still a little confused because it seems out of character for someone so shy about sex.

"Yeah, hell she might even write erotica, BDSM, or slash. All those are like porn, and with her being so reserved, maybe it's the opposite in her writing life. You know how it is … you can't express yourself in your real life, but yet as an alter ego, you can be a sexual deviant." He smirked at me, and I understood completely. Weren't we living the same kind of double life ourselves? During our days, we were your average people, but in our off time, we like to do things others might deem unethical. Hell, we didn't talk about things in public, and things were kept hush at clubs we attended to protect our identities.

"So, that means all of these people I am reading for run a good chance of not being Bella?" I asked. I was hoping I was one step closer to cracking her shell, but maybe I wasn't.

"That's a good chance. Let's look at all the stories rated M or MA to see if we can find your girl," he said, focusing back on this computer screen.

It took us hours to weed through different stories. I had started a list of different authors that I would try to reach out to. Every so often Jasper would send me links to check out stories. I would look them over and either add them to my list or follow the story on my profile.

"Check this one out," he said, emailing me the link for the story.

"Who's the author?" I asked.

"WashingtonCallhum," he said, still looking over the story.

"Which one? She has written quite a few, but she looks to be new to writing. Her first post was around September."

"Dominance and Submission," he said, smiling.

"Sounds good," I replied, scrolling through the notes.

I started reading, and right away, I could see this author needs lots of help. She bounced in and out of tense, had multiple run on sentences, and comma splices. Her plot needed help, and she has some aspects of the BDSM community wrong, and that was within the first couple of chapters. Her lists were repetitive, and she clearly needed guidance.

"I think I am going to send her a message," I said automatically.

"I would. She clearly needs help," Jasper was pretty good himself. Hell, he could probably become a beta, and between the two of us, we could guide these women.

"I already started an account for myself. This story sounds interesting," he said, clicking away on his laptop.

"Here take this." I tore my paper in half and gave him the top half, while I took the bottom.

Jasper contacted all the authors on the top half, while I worked on sending a message to WashingtonCallhum.

_**To: Washington Callhum**_

_**From: Master Callhum**_

_**Re: Dominance and Submission**_

_**I was wondering if you would be interested in having another beta reader. I am an English Professor and stumbled upon your story. I like the plotline and think with a little grammar help, you could truly have something spectacular here. I am also a member in the community and might be able to give you some advice on the aspects of your story that are wrong, when it comes to the community.**_

_**I would love the opportunity to help guide you through your writing journey. If you are interested, you can email me at mastercallhum Thanks.**_

I continued to work well into the night, and Jasper didn't relent either. We searched every avenue possible. Some authors responded back quickly with a "no thank you" response, which I was shocked they didn't want someone's help, but there wasn't anything I could do about it.

Jasper finally left around three in the morning, totally beat, and he still had to work in the morning. It was right around Christmas, and neither of us had any family, so we didn't even celebrate anymore. The only positive I had was the fact that I didn't have to work for the next couple of weeks.

I finally crawled in bed around four, tired and exhausted, hoping that one of the authors I contacted would be the wonderful Bella Swan.

_**A/N: Another chapter to this story. I love the fact that Edward will hopefully be beta reading for the wonderful Washington Callhum. I wonder what will happen next. Will Bella allow Master Callhum to read for her? Will Edward figure out that he has potentially found Bella? What will reading her writing do to him? So many questions … all will be answered, and then we will truly learn how to turn fiction into reality. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing. Remember, be kind and show some love.**_


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